


Cyclical

by hanktalkin



Series: Colorswapped Universe [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossfaction, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Friends to Enemies, Hand Jobs, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post WAR!, Thanksgiving, raccoons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7023055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">-George Santayana</span>
</p><p>Team swapped Boots N Bombs (RED Soldier/BLU Demoman) but there will be some metnions of past BLU Soldier/RED Demoman</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don’t Look At My Fucking Boner When We Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy memorial day my friends!  
> here is the first chapter of my super long fic. Lord Help Me.

BLU had lost today. And there was a tiny itty bitty miniscule little chance it was entirely the Demoman’s fault.

By the time the cart made it to last, BLU was too run down for the final push, and time ran out a few yards from victory. _Maybe_ if the Demoman had invested a little more time in the cart instead of charging off on a murder spree, they wouldn’t have to act like they were down a man. On the other hand, if they _had_ pushed the cart faster, Demo wouldn’t have had enough time to go godlike. And thus, as each action has it’s own reward, Demo was forced to wander around Humiliation Round with a twenty-three kill streak and nothing to show for it.

But the Demoman wasn’t really thinking about how he brought this upon himself, or the benefits of teamwork. All he really wanted to do was continue to kick some ass. Fate had delivered him RED Soldier.

The Soldier hadn’t noticed him yet, no doubt making his way toward the BLU’s spawn. Demo still felt the adrenaline of the battle coursing through him, making him both very brave and also very stupid. At the sight of the enemy he put his hands to his mouth and hollered “Hey RED! Yeah, you! Want tae wrestle?”

Normally during a round, that would get him blasted to smithereens before he even finished his sentence, but he was banking on the fact that no one in their right mind called attention to themselves during Humiliation. Sure enough, the RED turned to him with such utter bewilderment he didn’t even raise his rocket launcher.

Demo made a “come over here” motion, and the Soldier suspiciously obliged. When he got within a few feet of his foe he glared at the Demoman skeptically. “What do you want, BLU?”

Demo interacted with the Soldier more than any of the other REDs. About four years ago, there had been a class war between the other team’s Demoman and his own team’s Soldier. Although it had started with those two, it had eventually sucked him in to face off against the RED Soldier in a weird point system. Demo didn’t particularly care _why_ they were fighting. All he cared was that he got a bitchin’ new sword out of the exchange.

“I want tae wrestle,” he told the Soldier honestly. “I’m still itchin’ for a fight after that last battle and you’re the only person I see who might oblige me.”

The Soldier narrowed his eyes. “And why would I want to wrestle you when I could just as easily blast your sorry ass off the map?”

“You can always do that,” Demo countered. “When’s the next time you’re goin’ tae be able tae fight a true battle with none o’ your prissy explosives?”

The RED lowered his head so his helmet slid further over his eyes.

“C’mon, lets do this man-to-man. You’ll put down your launcher and I’ll put down me…” Demo looked down at his hands. The Eyelander had winked out existence as soon as Humiliation had started. “Well. Anyway. We’ll be on even ground is what I’m sayin’.”

The Soldier’s nostrils flared. “How do I know this is not some BLU trick?”

“Look lad,” Demo said. “I _just_ want tae have a tussle. Is that so hard tae believe? That I want some good ole’ fashioned fightin’ tae end me day with?”

The plea of manly fighting struck a cord with Soldier. Persuaded, he leaned his rocket launcher on the side of a nearby shed. “Alright BLU, you’ve convinced me. Let’s see how you handle yourself without any of _your_ ‘prissy explosives.’” With those words, he dropped into a fighting stance.

Demo was surprised by the initiation. He assumed that they would just beat the shit out of each other like you do in any old bar brawl. Instead, it looked like they were going to have an actual honest-to-God competition. Demo mirrored the Soldier, fists raised and knees bent. He wondered briefly if they should establish some rules before beginning, but was interrupted as Soldier threw a punch right at his face.

He instinctively blocked it, but it turned out to be a feint as Soldier’s jab came up and hit him directly in the stomach. It didn’t do much considering he was still wearing his blast armor, but it winded him slightly. Now he was bent over just enough for Soldier to deliver an elbow strike across his jaw. A tooth went flying. He stumbled sideways, but got his footing before Soldier could get any more hits in.

A grin stretched across Soldier’s face.

Demo spit out a mouthful of blood and dropped into stance again, determined to knock his block off. Jesus, why had he thought the Soldier would fight any less ferociously with his fists than with his weapons?

A kick came low, aimed at Demo’s shin. He managed to block it, if barely. As long as he was bent over, he decided to go for Soldier’s stomach. His shoulder landed on its mark, rewarding him with a loud “oof.” The slow moving uppercut, however, was easily parried. Soldier shoved him away, wheezing to regain his breath.

In all honesty, Demo didn’t expect to win this fight. Soldier was physically stronger than him under normal circumstances, but Humiliation left the losing team feeling drained, even if they weren’t injured. Demo noticed the lethargy in his muscles, slowing him down and making him easy to counter. He wouldn’t win today, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t bloody try.

Demo lunged at Soldier. The tackle brought them both to the ground, more familiar territory for the Demoman. He immediately rolled on top, deriving punches to Soldier’s face. Blood pooled from Soldier’s lip when he managed to get in a good hit, but Soldier merely growled at the inconvenience. He grabbed one of Demo’s arms, pinned his leg, and bucked his hip at the same time to roll them over. Their positions switched, Soldier returned the favor and began reigning blows on Demo’s head.

Fuck this was exhausting.

The blast armor had become extremely heavy; no doubt an effect of whatever made Humiliation so tiring. He would have to take it off if he wanted to keep up. Hand wrapped around the front of Soldier’s uniform, he smashed their faces together. Helmets do not protect against broken noses. Using the momentary distraction, Demo wriggled free and squirmed out of the blast armor. His shirt accidently went with it, but that couldn’t be helped.

He heard Soldier take in a sharp breath. Demo didn’t really know the reason for the hesitation, but he wasn’t about to waste an opportunity like this. He lunged at the RED, pinning him again. The difference without the armor was staggering; either that or Soldier wasn’t fighting as hard as he was a moment ago.

Demo landed another blow across Soldier’s mouth, his fist coming away red with nose blood. Half-hearted blocks protected most of Soldier’s face, prompting Demo to hit harder. He didn’t even realize his leg was pinned again until it was to late. Using the same move he had before, Soldier rolled them over, ending up on top once again. Demo was about raise his arms to block when he felt something hard pressing into his stomach. At first, he thought it was Soldier’s belt buckle, but that was up near his waist and it was Soldier’s legs that were wrapped around him…

Oh.

Soldier realized what was going on at the exact same instant Demo did. From this angle, Demo could look under the helmet at the pure terror forming on his face. He made a very un-soldier like squeak.

Before he could even say anything, Soldier was already struggling to get off him. It went rather poorly, as their legs still intertwined from the pin; Soldier ended up falling flat on his ass. He pulled his knees up to his chest, trying very hard to hide the tent that had erected itself in his pants.

“Well,” Demo mused, “that’s certainly something.”

Soldier buried his face in his hands.

“Ah, dunnae feel bad, lad. So you sprung a stiff Richard durin’ a fight? Happens tae everyone at some point,” Demo said, trying to be comforting.

Soldier only shook his head.

“Oh c’mon, it’s nae that bad-” Demo had extended a hand to his shoulder, but Soldier looked at him in alarm.

“Don’t!” He shouted. “Don’t I…I knew this was a trick! You lured me out here with promises of manly wrestling and it turned out to be some sort of…depraved sex thing!”

“A trick? You’re the one with the boner lad, nae me.”

Soldier’s outburst was over as soon as it began, and he went back to being mortified.

“You took off your shirt,” he murmured.

“You…got a hard on ‘cause I took off me shirt?”

Soldier didn’t say anything.

“Or is it ‘cause I took off me shirt and then I pinned you to the ground?”

Soldier’s face went as red as his uniform. Well, it was already red with blood but after that it went red with embarrassment too.

“I took off my shirt ‘cause my armor was gettin’ heavy and the shirt came with, nae ‘cause I was tryin’ tae seduce you.”

“Oh,” Soldier said. He wrapped his arms around his legs, still trying to hide his arousal.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Please do not tell anyone,” Soldier said quietly.

“O’ course not.

Soldier nodded, but didn’t look like he was leaving anytime soon. Demo considered him carefully.

“So,” Demo started, “you want some help with that?”

“What?” Soldier asked, his expression not scared anymore, only shocked.

“Well, the way I see it, if you go back to your base you got two options. You can rub it out yourself, or you can suffer until it goes away. Probably push-ups, or whatever you military types do. Point is, I can help you out now, save you some trouble.” Demo gave what he hoped was a trustworthy smile.

“…Why?”

Demo shrugged. “I’m bored, you’re hard. Seems like a match made in heaven.”

Soldier looked absolutely dumfounded. Demo didn’t blame him, he found few people throughout his life that rolled with the punches as well as himself.

After a few seconds with no response, Demo made a move to leave.

“Well if that’s a ‘no’ then I best be-”

“Wait!” Soldier interjected. Demo glanced at him, and Soldier immediately flustered.

Instead of getting up, he scooted closer to the Soldier.

“Y’ ken,” Demo said, “there’s no out here but us. It’s okay to say yes.”

They weren’t exactly hidden, the view of the battlefield only partially blocked by the shed. But anyone who hadn’t returned to base by now would have come at the sound of their earlier fighting. For all intents and purposes, they were alone.

Demo couldn’t see the Soldier’s eyes, but he could feel them flicker across his bare chest.

“I…” Soldier still seemed at a loss for words.

Demo closed the last couple of feet between them.

“If you want my help, say so.”

“I…” Soldier said. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and tried again. “I want your help.”

Demo smiled. With the permission he needed, he leaned forward and pressed his hand to Soldier’s crotch.

Even at the lightness of the touch, Soldier’s breath hitched. He slowly leaned back onto his elbows as Demo’s hand began fondling the tight fabric in his fatigues. Demo watched the other man slowly turn to putty.

“It’s alright, RED. You’re in good hands. Well,” he paused, “hand.”

Handjobs had never been Demo’s expertise, but it seemed the safest option right now if he didn’t want to scare Soldier off. Besides, just because he would rather give a blowjob didn’t mean his handies weren’t excellent. As if to illustrate, Soldier let out long moan. He then jerked his head around in surprise, as though wondering if that sound had really come from him.

“Dunnae worry,” Demo said soothingly, “I’m not goin’ tae judge you if you cut loose a wee bit.”

His fingers moved to undo Soldier’s fly. Once it was open, they moved down into his briefs and pulled out his hardened cock.

“Hnng,” Soldier groaned as Demo’s hand began pumping his shaft. “Sweet Land of Liberty…”

Demo teased him, fingers running lightly down his shaft then up to the tip. He wiped a thumb over the slit, wetting it with precum. When he wrapped his hand fully around, Soldier let loose with a soft “Chirst almighty…”

Soldier’s hands clutched at the grass beneath him.

“Demoman,” he choked, “please I…”

Demo figured that was his way of giving warning.

“It’s okay,” Demo hushed, “I’ve got you.”

He slowed his pace, readying for the finale.

“Uncle Sam…” Soldier said before returning to unintelligible grunts.

Demo didn’t respond to that one, he simply trailed his fingers along Soldier’s throbbing cock once again. A few more pumps and Solider came, spilling his cum on the grass and his own trousers.

Demo leaned back. He still couldn’t see Soldier’s eyes, but he was sure they were rolled back in head, looking at the bright lights everyone saw after a good orgasm. Demo reached over and grabbed his discarded shirt, using it to wipe off Soldier’s pants.

Always good to be chivalrous.

Demoman sat beside the dazed Soldier, waiting for him to come out of his orgasm coma. When he came to, he no longer looked flustered or embarrassed. He merely looked…disorientated.

“Feelin’ better?”

Soldier nodded his head vaguely.

“Well, glad I could help,” Demo said as he rose to his feet. Any more ceremony than that would be crossing a line. Soldier seemed in a delicate position, and he didn’t want to seem too presumptuous. He did, however, turn and give the Soldier a wink. “See you around, RED.”

The Demoman returned to his base. All things considered, it was a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> considering I’ve never had to use self defense, those four years of karate have finally become useful


	2. From Now on, You Call Me by My Name: Sarge. Or S-Dog.

Demoman sprinted out of respawn, charging down the tracks to the last point.

BLU had done exceedingly well the last couple of days, but this took the cake. The cart had already made it to Borneo’s final building, and they still had twenty minutes left in the round.

“Mission ends in twenty minutes.”

Speak of the devil.

Medic was at eighty percent when Demo had gotten an arrow through the eye; by now, he would be at full charge. Demo walked even faster, after all no one wants to miss a final push.

“AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA!”

The scream interrupted Demo’s thoughts, and he barely brought his shield up in time to block the charge of the RED Demoman. The Claidheamh Mòr imbedded itself in the wood of the BLU’s shield, and he could hear the soft “headsheadaheadsheads” of his own sword getting excited. He kicked the other man off him, the RED’s weapon pulling free. It appeared he would miss that Uber after all.

The two Demomen circled each other, leaving Demo to wonder what the hell the RED was doing out here. Shouldn’t he be defending the last point instead of dicking around the enemy spawn?

The BLU charged, but the enemy Demoman lunged out of the way, causing Demo to bang uselessly against the wooden wall.

“Oh, what’s the matter lad? Still spawn sick?” The RED laughed.

But Demo wasn’t concentrating on him anymore. A different red uniform had just gone flying through the air. He blinked, but the RED Soldier had already disappeared behind the barn.

Demo resisted the urge to go after him. It had been more than a week since their little wrestling match and they hadn’t so much as been in the same room since. It’s not that Demo was avoiding him; he merely wished to give Soldier some space if he wanted to work things out. Nothing soured a good night faster than being too pushy.

A sword heading for his neck brought him rudely to the present. He met the blade with his own.

“Headsheadsheads…”

Demo shushed his sword.

The RED Demoman advanced with a few more powerful swipes. Demo countered the last of the swings, arcing the long blade just out of reach of his foe. He was about to return with his own advance when a ball of fire erupted from the capture building.

The RED’s weapons disappeared.

“Aw for the love-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Demo took his head off in one clean swoop.

“HEADS!”

“Yes Eyelander. Heads.”

The Demoman walked away from the destroyed building toward where he saw the Soldier go. He hoped no one else had killed him yet.

“Victory,” the Administrator’s voice called over the loudspeakers.

It took longer to respawn outside of battle, whether that be in Humiliation or in the victory explosion. Most of the mercenaries were dead now, and would be for a few hours. That should give some time to talk…or whatever it was Soldier wanted to do.

Demo found him near second spawn, in one of smaller buildings full of crates. Soldier whipped around when Demo’s silhouette blocked the doorway.

His eyes flicked to the Eyelander, clasped in Demo’s hand and still glistening with his teammate’s blood. Demo immediately set it down, dropping his shield with it. He then stood in the middle of the secluded room, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Soldier looked him up and down, grasping the fact that the BLU wasn’t trying to kill him. Now it was just a matter of determining what that meant.

“So,” Demo tried after a few seconds of Soldier examining him, “fancy meetin’ you here.”

“Uh huh,” Soldier replied.

“Well. That’s better than I was expectin’. I thought you might start screamin’ at me about dirty BLU tricks again.”

“Scream at you?” Soldier asked with genuine confusion.

“Well,” Demo said, “I ken you had a good time, but I was worried you might have changed your mind since then. Thought it was a mistake.”

The Soldier shuffled back and forth. “It wasn’t a mistake, it was…”

“Fun?”

Soldier nodded. “Yeah. Fun.”

Demo felt a flutter of hope in his chest. He stepped a few feet closer, letting his voice go low. “Fun enough to do again sometime?”

Soldier leaned against the wall, shifting his focus off the BLU.

“We’re enemies,” He said.

Demo shrugged. “So what? Doesn’t have tae change anythin’. We can still kill each other on the battlefield and pop right back with nary a scratch. As for those,” he jerked his thumb at the darkened camera above their heads, “she hasn’t watched those in years. As long as we do our jobs and be discrete about it, who’s going tae care if we enjoy each other’s company now and again?”

Soldier didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be mulling it over.

Demo took another step, but, to his surprise, the Soldier flinched at his approach. Blue eyes flicked over to the bloody sword still in the corner, and Demo felt his gut twist with guilt.

“Look lad, if you say no, I’m nae goin’ tae flip out on you. It’s an honest offer. And if you say yes,” Demo tried to make his voice as comforting as possible, “I swear I won’t do anything you dunnae want me tae, no matter whose team won that day.”

A breath of relief came from Soldier, almost inaudible.

“Very well Demoman. If those are your terms, then I accept your proposition,” he stated firmly.

Demo stepped in front of him and placed his hands on the Soldier’s hips. It already felt more intimate than their earlier rendezvous.

“I’m glad,” Demo said.

Soldier flexed his own hands, unsure where to put them.

“Are we…doing this now?” he asked uncertainly.

“If you’d like.”

Soldier looked the Demoman up and down again before swallowing. “What would you like me to do?”

Demo felt flattered that Soldier trusted him enough to hand over control like that. To be honest, he hadn’t planned much further than this, still hung up over the fact that Soldier would want nothing to do with him. Maybe it would be best to start things slow and see where that took them. Demo spotted some waist high boxes in the center of the room.

“First,” he said, “I’d like you tae sit down on those crates. Then I’d like you tae take off your trousers. Then I’d very much like tae blow you.”

Soldier took a sharp breath that Demo hoped was from excitement.

Soldier hesitantly made his way to the crates. His boots and pants made a neat little pile as he removed them, making them as well kept as the rest of his gear. When he was done he looked a tad awkward, sitting on the crates naked from the waist down. Demo thought he was dazzling.

The Demoman knelt in front of Soldier, pushing aside his legs.

“Ready, RED?”

Soldier looked like he still couldn’t believe this was happening. He nodded.

Demo placed a small kiss in the hair above his cock. He then put just the tip in his mouth, and slowly took the entirety of Soldier’s length. A small gasp escaped the Soldier, followed by a full, drawn out groan.

When Demo began sucking in earnest, he heard a loud THWUMP as Soldier gave up sitting and lay down flat on the crates. This was followed by a clatter as Soldier’s helmet went rolling.

Demo ran his tongue along the shaft, electing another long moan. They sat in the quiet shed for several minutes, the only sound being slurping and Soldier’s occasional grunts. When Soldier was completely hard, Demo leaned back, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh.

“Mind If I try something different?” Demo asked.

Soldier still had enough presence of mind to respond. “Knock yourself out.”

When he was flat on his back, Soldier’s ass hung completely over the edge. Starting at his balls, Demo’s tongue made a straight line all the way over to his exposed pucker.

Soldier yelped.

“Was that a ‘do that again please’ or a ‘now I’m goin’ tae shove a rocket launcher up your arse?”

“Again,” Soldier spluttered.

Demo obliged, running his tongue in smooth motions around Soldier’s entrance. The noise Soldier made went straight to Demo’s groin, but he would have restrain himself again. Last time it had been a struggle to make it back to base for some alone time, but he had managed. He moved between sucking Soldier off and playing with his backside, keeping things interesting for the other man; not that that seemed to be much of a problem. Demo vaguely wondered if this was Soldier’s first blowjob.

He took a breath. “More?”

“Uh huh,” came Soldier’s reply.

Demo knew he would have to be extremely careful with this part. He reached into one of his pouches and drew out a bottle of lube he had been keeping there. Having it on the battlefield felt extremely weird, but he knew that being prepared outweighed the slim chance that someone would find it. He applied it to his fingers, warming it up before putting one to Soldier’s entrance. Slowly, he pressed his finger inside.

“Jesus!”

Demo stopped.

“You okay, RED?”

“I…” Soldier stammered. “I don’t know. What are you…?”

“I’m putting a finger inside you, just the one,” Demo said. “Is that alright? Do you need me to stop?”

He could hear Soldier breathing heavier. After a few moments, Soldier responded.

“No. Keep going.”

Demo did. He pushed his finger all the way in, with only mild grunts of discomfort from the Soldier. Eventually he was able to press it against Soldier’s prostate, getting the more pleasurable sounds he had been hoping for.

“What in the name of Rutherford B Hayes is _that_?”

“Just findin’ your sweet spot,” Demo replied. “Be glad you have it. Without it, no one would like bein’ fucked up the arse.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Soldier’s entire body became rigid, and Demo didn’t need to see his face to know it had gone a white as a sheet. That, combined with his earlier worries, solidified his plans.

“Relax, RED,” he soothed. “We’re not goin’ tae be doin’ any o’ that right now.”

A sigh came from Soldier’s body and it loosened around Demo’s finger. He wrapped his mouth back around Soldier’s cock, alternating between applying pressure to his prostate and blowing him. The noises started up again, Soldier bucking into Demo’s mouth and sinking his nails into the wood beneath him. He could only take the overstimulation for so long, and came into the Demoman’s mouth a few seconds later.

Demo withdrew, and stood to view his handiwork.

Soldier’s face was bright red, his eyes glazed. His legs hung limply off the edge of the crates, not even touching the ground.

He looked absolutely ravished.

Admiring the spent mercenary, Demo felt his own need rise. Not wanting today to become another hit and run, he turned away from Soldier and undid his fly. Demo came quickly, as he doubted Soldier would judge him for it. He cleaned up his own mess using the tissues he had stashed with the lube. Finishing, he collapsed next to the crates, head resting near Soldier’s.

For a while, the only sound was heavy breathing as the two mercenaries enjoyed the afterglow.

Soldier spoke first.

“You don’t even really want anything from me.”

Demo shifted his upper body to rest on the crate and face the Soldier, confusion furrowing his brow.

“I mean,” Soldier continued, “you don’t ask me to return the favor or anything. And last time you didn’t even…finish. I do not understand.”

Without the helmet, Demo could see that Soldier was really quite handsome. Great. Noticing a man is handsome _after_ giving him a blowjob. Could they be doing this any more out of order?

Demo shrugged. “I guess I just like tae make people feel good. I’m a nice guy like that.” He gave Soldier his best smirk.

Soldier rolled onto his side and stared at him, trying to judge whether he was joking. In a way, he wasn’t. Demo loved seeing people torn apart by their own pleasure, and he especially loved knowing he had done it to them. It got him off better than any dirty mag ever could. In fact, that first handjob by itself had made his solo sessions better than they had been in years.

“Think of it this way,” Demo explained, “when I see you like that, all gaspin’ and moanin’ and all out of breath, it makes me feel good about myself. Just lookin’ is enough for me. You look gorgeous.”

Soldier blinked at him innocently. “I do?”

Well that was…cute.

“Aye. You do.”

Soldier’s eyes shifted out of focus, processing this new information.

Demo watched his still very handsome face and felt the need to change the subject.

“So,” he began, “I take it you’ve never had anythin’ up your arse before.”

Soldier bit his lip, considering lying. Eventually he shook his head.

“Huh. Strange. Weren’t you in the army? I thought they buggered each other all the time durin’ trainin’ and such.”

Soldier gaped at Demo. “The United States Army emulates integrity, service before self and excellence in all that we do! It is not some devious hoochie bar!

“Easy RED, I wasn’t tryin’ tae pick a fight.”

“And stop calling me RED! My name is Soldier!”

Demo rolled his eye. “No, that’s your class name.”

“So? I call you Demoman.”

“I never asked you tae call me Demoman,” Demo said. “And, no offense lad, but the one on me own team is always goin’ tae be ‘Soldier’ tae me.”

Soldier frowned at that. After a moment of consideration, he addressed Demo again.

“You can call me Major.”

“I… _what_?”

“Major. It’s my name.”

“Your name is _Major_?” Demo sputtered.

“It’s my last name.”

Demo could hardly believe his ears.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he began, “that you, man who’s so obsessed with war he’s got shotgun shells flowin’ out his ears, just so _happens_ tae have the surname ‘Major.’”

“Yes.”

Demo couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. The shed was once again filled with noise as Demo held his stomach and cackled.

“Oh sweet Lord in heaven,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye, “that just may be-”

He caught a glance at the look Soldier was giving him.

“Oh, I’m nae…I’m nae makin’ fun of you lad. It’s just a strange coincidence, you ken?” Demo leaned toward him.

“Do not kiss me with that mouth! I know where that’s been!”

That started Demo laughing again, and he settled for nuzzling Soldier’s forehead instead.

“C’mon Major. We need tae be gettin’ back tae our bases,” he said as he pressed their noses together.

Soldier smiled. They got to their feet.

Demo collected Soldier’s helmet from the corner and placed it back on its owner’s head. He then put his hands on Soldier’s hips, much like he had before.

“I suppose I’ll see you again, next time we get the opportunity. Whenever that may be. And Major…?” he added.

“Yes?”

“Dunnae forget tae put your pants back on.”

“Oh. Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if giving them names outside their canon ones seems awkward.  
> the reason I did it is because I’m planning on incorporating more of BLU Soldier and RED Demoman later on, and they’re the ones who are Jane and Tavish. It’s better this way I think. Less confusing and also im trying to establish the different teams are different people  
> fun fact: soldier is actually quoting the air force motto, not the army. the army’s motto is “this we’ll defend”


	3. I Just Don’t Want Our Marriage to Become “Out of Ord”

Finding each other again turned out to be more difficult than Demo anticipated.

It dawned on him how little he actually stayed alive after rounds, even when BLU won. Each time he managed, he would go off in search of the RED Soldier to little sucess. Trying to stay alive after losing was even more difficult; he would hide for a while after a match, but someone always found him. Once he rounded a corner to see Soldier approaching him, only to be headshot by the RED Sniper a few seconds later. And of course Soldier couldn’t do a thing about it without blowing their cover.

So Demo just had to keep trying. After two weeks, their previous meetings were starting to look like a fluke.

Demo checked the last building on the RED side of Borneo. A huge crater in the center of the room told of a BLU victory, but he didn’t particularly feel like celebrating. The spawn room was empty, even the bloodstains neatly wiped away. He signed, and turned back toward BLU base.

He made his way past the outer sheds, going over the spot where he and the RED Demoman had held another duel that morning. There was something off about the other demolition’s expert, but Demo couldn’t quite place his finger on it. He tried not to think too hard. After all, it’s hard to be judgmental of someone’s sanity when you talk to your own sword.

He was just passing through the barn doors toward third spawn when he heard a loud and familiar “Demoman!”

Demo turned in time to see the RED Soldier stagger into view. His jacket was smoking, what was left of it anyways. Burns ran down his right arm, and bits of shrapnel were buried in his stomach. He was happy to see Demo.

“Demoman! I moved continuously so they would not find me! Always keep the enemy on their toes! Always-”

He coughed on the smoke from his jacket.

Demo immediately ran forward, but hesitated when he reached Soldier. If he knew anything about Soldiers, they hated being coddled or assisted by anyone except Medic. Soldier might yell at him if he tired to help.

Soldier coughed again and leaned against the side of a shed. His wounds looked painful. Demo’s gut twisted, and he knew he couldn’t just leave him like this.

He slid Soldier’s arm over his shoulder and braced for impact, but none came. In fact, as Demo walked them inside the shed, he even got a “thanks” for his efforts.

Demo set Soldier down and grabbed the medkit next to the pile of ammo. Using them on himself had given Demo a lot of practice, and he began to wrap Soldier’s arm.

“I’m surprised you’re lettin’ me do this,” he said as he got to his knees. “I thought you were goin’ tae yell at me just for trying tae help you tae your feet.”

Soldier furrowed his brow. “You said that before too. Why do you keep expecting me to yell at you?”

“You yell all the time.”

“Yeah. When I am in battle. I am not constantly blowing my lid when we’re just talking.”

Demo finished tying Soldier’s arm into a sling. He drew out a tweezers from the medkit and began to work on the shrapnel.

“Hmm,” Demo said, “That’s true. I guess I’m expecting you to shout more.”

“ _Ouch_. You expect me to shout _more_ than when I’m fighting? _OUCH_.”

Demo threw a bit of mettle on the floor.

“Nae more than when you’re fighting, more than…” Demo hesitated, “…more than the other Soldier.”

Now that he had set it out loud, Demo wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. It was such an obvious difference between them.

“You’re nae like him at all, really,” he continued. “Like I said, you don’t shout as much. In fact, you just seem like a nicer bloke all around.”

Soldier didn’t know what to with the compliment, and stared until Demo pulled a hunk of rocket from his chest.

“GAH.”

“I think I got all of it out,” Demo said, moving his thumb along the damaged flesh. He wiped alcohol over the wound, making Soldier wince.

“Tell me about him,” Soldier said as Demo dressed the wound.

“Hm?”

“Tell me about the other Soldier. You do not seem very fond of him.”

Demo snorted. “That’s ‘cause he’s a piece o’ shite. He’s always screamin’ at us about somethin’ or another. When we lose, he blames us. And when we win, he just goes off on his own to do his stupid drills. And he’s always fuckin’ _on me_ about _everythin’_. About the drinkin’, about nae pullin’ me weight, about _leavin’ the lid up_. Psh. You know he called me a fuckin’ crossdresser yesterday?”

“ _I’ve_ called you a crossdresser before.”

“I know,” Demo said, “but you’re the enemy, I expect it from you. He’s supposed to be my teammate. He’s supposed-”

Demo pulled the knot sharply. Soldier yelped.

“Sorry,” Demo said guiltily. “Let’s nae talk about it anymore.”

Soldier ran his hand over the neat bandages. The medkits were useful, but they weren’t as essential when Medic favors you.

Soldier looked across at the Demoman, whose mood had darkened considerably.

“So,” he tried after a short while, “what are we doing today?”

Demo’s gloomy eye looked over him. “I dunnae think you’re in much shape to do anythin’, lad.”

Soldier couldn’t keep the disappointment off his face, but he knew Demo was right.

“Why’d you patch me up if we’re not even going to do anything together?” He asked.

Demo felt a little hurt. “You think I’m just goin’ tae let you bleed out ‘cause I’m not plannin’ on sleepin’ with you this very instant?”

“Oh.” Soldier at least had the decency to look a little abashed.

Demo rubbed his temples, the day’s battle suddenly catching up with him. He was still rubbing his face when he heard Soldier call out hesitantly.

“Do you want to stay and talk for a while then?”

Badly burned and injured, Soldier was looking at him hopefully. Dinner wouldn’t be for another few hours, no one would miss them. The only thing waiting at base for Demo was his teammates, and he could talk to them anytime.

“Sure, why not?”

Soldier brightened as Demo deposited himself on Soldier’s uninjured side.

Before he knew it, Soldier had laced his fingers through his own. It made Demo feel embarrassed for some reason. That was silly considering he had literally blown the man, but warmth crept into his cheeks all the same. When he got his emotions under control, he realized that neither of them had said anything yet.

“So what’s your Demoman like?” Demo asked. “I mean, I told you about my Soldier, I think it’s fair you tell me about your Demoman.”

“You want me to tell you about Tavish?”

“Aye.”

“Well his name is Tavish and-” Soldier stopped. “Oh. You never told me your name. I told you mine but you never told me yours.”

“You’re right,” Demo said. “I didn’t.”

Soldier swallowed, suddenly nervous.

“Oh.” He paused. “What’s your name?”

“Graham.”

Soldier let out a sigh of relief. “Oh good. I thought you were going to make me guess your name like Rumpelstiltskin. Do you know about Rumpelstiltskin? He kidnapped the Lindbergh Baby in 1932 and gave Anne Lindbergh 3 chances to guess-”

“Major,” Demo calmly prompted.

“Right!” Soldier said. “I was telling you about Tavish.”

He thought for a moment.

“Well he’s not like you. He’s drunk a lot. And he’s not suave. He’s mostly just sad. Sometimes when he’s drunk and sad he’ll go in and play drunk sad piano for hours.”

“Well there’s another difference then, I dunnae ken how tae play piano. I can play some mean bagpipes, though,” Demo interjected. “Is there any thing else? Whenever I see him during a match he always seems a bit strange.”

“He’s not strange, he’s just…sensitive.”

“It sounds like you want tae call him a ‘simpering, music playing hippie.’”

“I do. But he is my friend so I won’t.”

Demo gaped at him. “He’s your _friend_?”

Soldier nodded. Demo thought it odd Soldier had known the RED Demoman’s first name, but he never imagined they could be _friends_.

“I think I’m his only friend. He tends to isolate himself from everyone else.”

The whole night seemed to revolve around the two teams being disparate, but Demo hadn’t expected them to be such polar opposites. How ironic that Soldier was RED Demoman’s only friend while BLU Demoman found he like everyone on his team _besides_ his Soldier. BLU Soldier was Demo’s least favorite person in the world, yet he looked exactly like the man he sat side-by-side with now. The man he who was holding his hand. The man who was now putting his head on Demo’s shoulder. He felt a flutter in his stomach.

The nerves eventually passed, and the two of them began to talk more about their teams. Eventually they began to talk about weapons, then about bagpipes, then hats, and then they talked about nothing at all really as they drifted in comfortable silence. Before they knew it, more than a couple hours had passed.

“I think we need tae go back. If I miss dinner, my team’ll start tae wonder.”

Demo helped Soldier to his feet. The RED wore a look of disappointment, and Demo felt something pull at his heartstrings.

“Mind if I walk you home?” he asked, and Soldier instantly cheered up.

They walked toward RED base, Soldier’s arm slung over Demo’s shoulder once again. Demo thought Soldier could probably get back on his own, but Demo didn’t mind. It was nice to feel needed.

When they were close enough now to see the lights of RED base, Demo said “I got tae stop here. Someone might spot me if I get any closer.” He was already worried about RED Sniper poking his nose out of a window. That man seemed to have it out for him.

“Alright,” Soldier said too cheerfully for a man missing most of his arm. “Thank you for walking me back Graham.” He began to walk toward his base.

“What, that’s it? No goodnight kiss?” Demo joked.

Soldier turned back toward him. With only a few seconds to run his eyes up and down the Demoman, Soldier closed the distance between them, grabbed the front of Demo’s armor with his good hand, and mashed their faces together.

The kiss was unlike any Demo had experienced in a long time. It was harsh and awkward and their noses pressed clumsily against each other. Demo suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands or what he should be doing with his tongue; it was like he was fourteen again. The only thing he could think about was the hand on the front of his shirt and the lips pressing against his own.

When Soldier let him go, he gasped for air.

“Goodnight,” Soldier said.

Demo felt like he was supposed to say something but for once the words didn’t come. Soldier blinked at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say goodnight too. He couldn’t. Soldier’s face broke into a huge smile.

“Really? All your smooth talking and _that’s_ what gets you?” Soldier laughed.

“Shove it,” Demo managed, feeling like an idiot for being caught off guard.

“Ha! I guess I know your weakness now. I’ll have to remember that for next time.” Still laughing, Soldier left him, giving him a cheerful wave as he reached the base’s door.

Demo waved back. The walk back to BLU base was spent kicking himself, and wondering why a stupid kiss left him gasping like a fish.

That had been their first kiss hadn’t it? Damn. They were doing this all out of order.


	4. Traitor Foe’s

Meeting after matches became easier as time went on. The key was choosing two or three meeting places on the map and hiding there whenever you happen to survive the day. Demo became very good at standing near where Soldier was hiding and convincing his teammates he had cleared the area. As they got better at choosing places and avoiding death, they found they could meet about once a week.

Moving to Badwater was hard initially, but once they picked new rendezvous, it became just another part of their routine. A month passed, a move to Double Cross, then Badlands, then Pipeline. The bases came and went, but Demo always managed to find Soldier sooner or later.

It wasn’t enough.

He found himself missing the unhinged RED even if he had only seen him a few days ago. When he talked with his teammates, he began to imagine what Soldier would say if he were there. Even worse, he found himself liking their nights of sitting and talking just as much as he liked their steamier exchanges.

Not to mention the “steamier exchanges” themselves.

As time wore on, Soldier became more confident; he insisted on making Demo “feel good too.” Soldier’s first blowjob ended with a black eye a small amount of tears, but after that they were very successful. They discovered a lot of things about each other. Mostly that Soldier gave good head and Demoman could be really fucking loud.

Ten months after they began their relationship, the two of them curled against each other in one of Steel’s abandoned maintenance rooms. They had put their underclothes back on so there was some barrier between bare skin and the cold floor, but the majority of their clothing lay bunched up against the doorway with Demo’s weapons.

Demo nudged Soldier lightly. “We need tae start headin’ off. We’ve been out here too long already.”

This was always the worst part. Demo hated going back anyway, but Soldier dragged his feet when it came to saying goodbye. Then Demo would have to play the bad guy, prodding and promising and just trying to get them both home so their teams would remain oblivious.

Soldier nuzzled further into Demo’s shoulder. “We can stay a few more minutes.”

Demo sighed. Fuck, he was a hard man to say no to.

Soldier’s fingers slowly rubbed the tension out of Demo’s wrist, a habit he had picked up once when Demo complained about his sword grip being uncomfortable. The ache had stopped happening months ago, but Soldier still liked to the soothing motion.

He made a soft hum.

“What is it?” Demo asked.

“What?” Soldier replied, feigning ignorance.

“You only make that noise when you want tae talk about somethin’ but you don’t want tae be the one tae bring it up. So what is?”

Soldier continued to rub Demo’s wrist, silent for a few moments.

“I have been thinking. We have been together for a couple months now, right?”

“Aye?”

“And since beginning we have not done any sodomy.”

“Uhg,” Demo growled, “could you have said that in a _less_ romantic way?”

“Maybe. Should I try?”

Demo reached over and cuffed him with his free hand, earning a laugh from the Soldier. Demo waited a few moments before replying.

“It’s nae like I haven’t thought about. It’s just that, bein’ your first time and all, I dunnae really want tae do it while your bent over some random crates. Besides,” Demo added, “you dinnae seem all that comfortable when I first brought it up.”

“Well,” Soldier said hesitantly, “I am now.”

“I’m glad,” Demo said, pressing a kiss to Soldier’s temple. “But that still doesn’t solve the whole ‘no bed’ problem.”

“We could meet outside of work.”

Demo blinked at the Soldier. The solution was so obvious it should have been hitting him in the face.

“We could go to my castle,” Soldier continued. “I have a couple of beds there.”

“You have a _castle_?” Demo asked skeptically. He had grown up all around castles, but for there to one in the middle of New Mexico seemed unlikely.

“It belonged to a Wizard,” Soldier explained. “He’s gone now.”

Meeting outside of work would be difficult considering how few weekends or holidays RED and BLU gave, but Demo still felt like an idiot for not thinking of it in all this time.

“That could work,” Demo admitted. “I’m just a wee bit ashamed, is all.”

“What for?”

Demo smiled. “The embarrassin’ amount of time I spent plannin’ how tae get a couple pillows onto the battlefield.”

Soldier laughed hard at that, nudging at the Demoman until he too was chuckling. They stayed a laughing mess for a little while, joining their noise to that of the surrounding machines. Eventually Soldier went quiet, once again contemplating their outlook.

“A long furlough is going to be coming up,” he said. “Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

“I dunnae celebrate.”

Soldier looked at him, confused. “You Jewish?”

“I’m nae American, Major.”

“Ah,” Soldier said, “Yes. I try to forget about that.”

That earned him another cuff on the ear.

Soldier batted Demo away and laughed, shortly resuming his planning. “There’s a drug store out on the highway in between here and Hightower. Do you know it?”

Demo nodded, having bought supplies there on more than one occasion.

“We can meet there…on Thursday? I can pick you up.” Soldier perked up. “We could go see a movie!”

Demo snorted. “This is startin’ tae sound like a date.”

Soldier looked at him thoughtfully. He then scooted back a couple of inches, took both of Demo’s hands in his own, and very seriously asked “Graham? Will you go on a date with me?”

Ever since discovering the Demoman’s “weakness,” Soldier had been pulling shit like this. Sudden romantic gestures that took Demo off guard, and he did them just because he liked to make Demo suffer. It honestly should have stopped working by now, but as Soldier looked him directly in the eye and held his hands, Demo felt his cheeks become warm.

“Aye. Sure. It’s a date.”

Soldier grinned. “You’re blushing.”

“Oh shove it!” Demo said, blushing harder. “My skin’s too dark, you cannae even tell.”

“I can always tell,” Soldier said smugly. He tapped his forehead to illustrate.

“Well Houdini, readin’ minds ain’t goin’ tae help us much if we dunnae get back to our bases soon. We’ve been out here for almost five hours.”

“Harry Houdini was not a mind reader,” Soldier corrected, but still accepted Demo’s hand up.

They pulled their clothes back on, both slightly cramped after sitting for so long. When Soldier was mostly dressed, Demo pulled him in close for a goodbye kiss.

“Thursday at four?” Soldier confirmed between pecks.

“Thursday at four,” Demo replied.

Demo idly tucked Soldier’s undershirt into his pants, smoothing out the crease in the tank. When he was done, he kept his hands inside the edge, holding Soldier in for one long kiss. It was a kiss that hurt in the same way that all goodbye kisses do. The two people knew that once they broke it, reality would come back: they would have to get dressed, wave goodbye, and survive until they saw each other again. So instead, they held the kiss as long as they could.

At least they would have, had they not heard the voice from the doorway.

“Wha…?”

Demo tensed. The voice was extremely familiar, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the voice was supposed to be coming from the man in front of him.

When he turned and saw the BLU Soldier standing in the doorway, mouth agape, he knew God was punishing him for every single sin he had committed all at once.

He needed to say something, anything to diffuse the situation. But his mind froze somewhere between action and panic as the wheels in his head refused to reach a consensus. Fortunately for no one, he was saved that task as the BLU Soldier let out a bloodcurdling noise and raised his shovel.

On instinct, Demo stepped in between the two Soldiers. This proved to be a miscalculation. When Soldier’s shovel came down, it was not aimed at the RED. The Demoman dropped like a bag of rocks, momentary loosing vision is his good eye as a shock went through his skull. When he recovered, he could see that the RED had recuperated much faster, and had already swung a punch at his incoming double. Demo tried to get back to his feet, but instantly slipped again. What’s the next step above a concussion? Brain damage?

The two normally evenly matched opponents fought nearby. But one was armed and one was not and no matter what the RED Soldier did, he wasn’t going to be able to stop the shovel that caught him in the side of the head. The blow dropped him to the ground as well, and he raised an arm to protect himself. He may as well have been holding up a roll of paper towel. The second blow came down with a loud CRACK on an un-helmeted skull.

Demo had to get to his feet, he had to. He stumbled upward, fixing his vision on the only thing his mind could grasp. _Sword_.

Demo lunged for the Eyelander, bringing it up just in time to block the incoming entrenching tool. He could almost stand now. Another swing came at him and he blocked it as well.

“Soldier! Stop!” he said and Soldier screamed something back that his damaged mind couldn’t process.

It was all muscle memory now. He relied on the Eyelander’s spirit to control his swings, but even that couldn’t compensate for his slipping consciousness. He leaped forward at where he thought the Soldier was, but suddenly there were two of him and then none and then his sword hit nothing but air. Another blow, this time to the back of the head, and Demo went down for good. The only thing he could see was the tile of the maintenance room’s floor and then…black.

* * *

Demo woke up in respawn two hours later, very _very_ pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I have all this shit in my browser history b/c I was looking up sodomy. Did you know that sodomy doesn’t just mean anal sex? It means any sex that isn’t PiV, but we’re just going to pretend that Soldier means the traditional definition


	5. You Shot Church

I was late. Really late. Fuck, how long had he been dead?

No one was watching TV, that much he could tell. The living room was directly over the spawn room, and he should be able to hear everything going on in there.

Demoman heard nothing.

He stumbled out of respawn, spinning with the ghosts of head traumas past. Two very distinct emotions plagued him. The first was the crippling fear that Soldier had already told the team everything, that they would reject him, that they would know everything and he would loose the only family he had left. The second was an emotion called “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Team killing is unfortunately normal. But it’s one thing to hit someone with a rocket, or burn someone who isn’t-actually-a-spy, or smash Medic’s face into a wall when he’s using the Quick-Fix; it’s another thing to intentionally beat your teammate to death with a shovel. Demo wondered if he couldn’t understand what Soldier was saying because of his head injury, or because the mercenary was too outraged to actually form coherent words. So engrossed with emotion number two, Demo rounded the corner and slammed directly into Heavy.

“Demoman,” Heavy said with surprise, “what are you doing down here?”

Heavy had just come down the stairs, heading for the direction Demo had just come from.

“Did not see you at dinner,” Heavy continued. “Are you feeling well?”

Demo’s mind whirled. Had Soldier not told anyone? Or had he told everyone besides Heavy? But why would he do that? Demo couldn’t think of any reason, so he blurted out what he could to change the subject.

“I’m feelin’ great. How about you? What are you doin’ down here?”

“I come to get Sascha. Is time for bed.”

Bedtime. Shit, it really was late. Demo needed to find Soldier quickly. To beat him up or…something.

Heavy was still looking at him with concern. He felt an ache in his heart for the giant; his friend who he might never be able to speak with again if BLU decided it no longer wanted him. Without any preamble, Demo flung his arms around the other mercenary.

“Thanks for your concern, big guy.”

“Um,” Heavy said uncertainly, placing a large hand on Demo’s back, “you are welcome?”

Demo detached himself from Heavy and ran up the stairs before he could embarrass himself further.

He walked around the dark base for another few minutes, finding no one. The clomp of boots could be heard at some point when Heavy and Sascha returned to their room, but other than that the base was still. The only room left to check.

Demo knew he was in the gym before even opening the door. There was the soft FWUMP FWUMP FWUMP of gloves hitting the punching bag, and no one else was insane enough to be awake at this hour. Him and his fucking drills.

When the Demoman entered, Soldier’s eyes focused on him. If Demo was torn between fear and anger, then Soldier had devoted all of his energy to ten thousand years of nuclear rage.

“And the turncoat finally shows his face.”

Demo was shooting back before he even knew the words coming from his mouth. “I’ve been _dead_ you team killin’ cunt.”

Soldier didn’t seem the least bit insulted. He just glared at the other man as he threw his boxing gloves to the floor.

“Do not pretend like you have the moral high ground, sonny. You are a traitor and a coward, and you got what you had coming.” Soldier stood, body rigid, but didn’t make a move to attack again. “I knew it was something. Staying out late after battle. Coming back different. So finally I decided to do something about it, and what do if find?” Icy blue eyes burned with raw malevolence.

“What is your fuckin’ problem?” Demo said instead of answering the question. “If you’ve got an issue with two men bein’ intimate then-”

“I do not care that you’re a _sissy_ ,” Soldier spat, “I care that you’re a goddamned Benedict Arnold!”

That took Demo by surprise. It only dulled his anger momentarily however, and he launched right back in.

“So fuckin’ what? Yeah I slept with him. Dunnae affect a bloody thing. Who’s goin’ tae fuckin’ care? BLU command? The Administrator?” Demo demanded. “Face it Soldier, the only person who gives a rat’s ass is _you_ : the man who’s so fuckin’ unlikable that no one bothers tae care about, let alone love.”

It was a bluff. He was pretty sure that BLU would care very deeply if they found about the affair, but he was hoping he could convince Soldier that he was alone in his hatred. It didn’t have quite that affect. Soldier charged at him in blind rage, pinning him to the wall of the gymnasium by his throat. An arm press pressing painfully into his neck, Demo struggled the get the stronger man off him.

“Love?” Soldier roared. “Is that what you think that is? You mean _nothing_ to him. HE. IS. THE. ENEMY.”

Panic rose in Demo’s chest as he struggled for air. He tried to focus on the anger, to keep the fear down but it only barley worked. Soldier wouldn’t kill him again, right? They were in the middle of the base he wouldn’t…not with their team all around…

Soldier was still screaming. “THEY KILL US EVERY DAY OF OUR LIVES. DID THE WAR MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?”

Demo’s mind blanked at that. The WAR? Who had mentioned the WAR? He felt like his mind was slipping from lack of oxygen, but he didn’t Soldier to know he wasn’t keeping up anymore.

“That was five bloody years ago!” Demo yelled back. “And I never wanted tae be part of your stupid war. That was _your_ fight. You and the RED Demoman.”

Something clicked in Demo’s mind.

“Is that why you hate me so much? Because I remind you of him?”

“ **DO NOT PSYCHOANALYZE ME!** ” Soldier bellowed, slamming Demo’s chin upward and banging his head against the concrete wall. But his voice had changed, a tad higher, more afraid. It appeared Demo had touched a nerve.

“I’ll do whatever the bloody hell I want,” Demo replied, trying to make his voice sound threatening and not breathless. “And that includes me private life. So you best go pokin’ around in someone else’s business, arsehole.”

The gym was silent, only the sounds of labored breathing coming from the two teammates. With pure animosity burning in his eyes, Soldier let go of the Demoman. Demo struggled to get his breath back, wondering if he had won the argument. Soldier only stared at him, teeth grinding together audibly.

“I tried to warn you,” Soldier said at almost normal speaking volume. “Whatever happens next is on your head.”

With that, he left.

Demo touched his sore neck, then gingerly felt where his head had slammed into the wall. Oh yeah. Definitely going to follow _that_ advice. What a fucking bastard.


	6. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives

Morning came and the Demoman still found himself a member of Builder’s League United. The only trouble at occurred when Scout prodded him over breakfast, asking why he hadn’t been at dinner. A fake cough and a few scattered tissues diverted suspicion, not to mention his voice was still hoarse from being choked. Only Heavy seemed to doubt his contrived illness, shooting him worried looks throughout the meal. But he didn’t question Demo openly, and breakfast passed in peace.

Soldier glared at him all through setup. It was hard to miss the blue eyes following him everywhere, even under the Cadet Grey helmet. Demo ignored it.

“Ya’ll insult his mother or something?” the Engineer asked, not looking up from his sentry. “He’s been glaring atcha all morning, looking like he wants to tear yer arms outta yer sockets.”

Demo considered lying for a moment, inventing some imaginary insult he could blame Soldier’s behavior on. Instead he shrugged.

“Soldier hates me. Alert the fuckin’ presses.”

Engie laughed. “Don’t feel bad ‘bout it, son. Soldier hates everyone.”

“Aye,” Demo conceded, “but you got tae admit he seems tae have it out for me.”

The Engineer considered for a moment, then nodded his head.

“I think yer right. He always seems to go after ya when he needs someone to blame. Real shame that man. He didn’t always used to be like that.”

Demo was so busy ignoring Soldier he almost missed that last part. “What?”

The sentry made a squeaking sound as the last level-three parts were installed. Engie looked inquisitively from his project.

“What do you mean he ‘dinnae always used tae be like that’?” Demo pressed.

“Dontcha remember?” Engie asked. “He used to be all smiles for the first few years. I mean, I got the feeling he was never all there upstairs, but not that he was a mad killer. I think the whole death-respawn-death thing knocked something loose inside of him, and he wasn’t able to deal with it the way the rest of us did.”

Now that Engie had said it, images of a less disgruntled Soldier flashed into Demo’s mind. Soldier sitting with the rest of the team. Occasionally sharing a beer with him. The memories felt odd, like they had happened to someone else entirely.

“Yeah, I do remember, sortta. Hard to believe he’s the same person.”

Engie shrugged. “People change. ‘Specially in a line of work like this.”

“Mission begins in ten minutes.”

The mission actually began in eight minutes, but they had learned not to rely on the loudspeakers long ago.

That topic exhausted, Demo tried to keep up the small talk while waiting for the round to start.

“So, you drivin’ back to Texas for furlough?”

The Engineer smiled at the reminder. “Yep. Got four whole days to see the kids. Abigail’s getting real big, Bell thinks she’s gonna start walking soon.”

“That’s impossible! You just had her, like, last week.”

“She’s eleven months now.”

“Jesus,” Demo said, putting his hand to his face, “we’re gettin’ so old.”

“Speak for yourself, partner. I still got a lotta fight left in my bones.”

They shared a laugh, marveling about how quickly time could fly. Demo knew he would never be able to do what Engie did: living with one foot at home and the rest of his days five hundred miles away. BLU _was_ Demo’s home as far as he was concerned. They were the people he lived and died with every day.

“What ‘bout you?” Engineer said, sensing Demo’s thoughts. “Ya’ll don’t celebrate, do ya?”

A thrill of reckless abandon pulsed through Demo. He felt the need to tell someone, even if was only a hint.

“Actually,” Demo corrected, “I happen tae have a hot date this comin’ Thanksgivin’.”

“Really?” Engie said with a smile. “Well I hope you two have a nice time. It ain’t often ya find a person willing to put up with our line of work. ‘Specially when it comes to scheduling.”

It was stupid and impulsive, but Demo felt better for doing it. The scare with BLU Soldier should have made him more cautious, but instead he felt a need to spite the man.

The two mercenaries turned toward the gate, their internal clocks telling them it was exactly nine. They rushed out as the gate opened, Demo covering Engie as he set his sentry back up.

Besides, Demo reasoned, it wasn’t that big of a risk. If Engineer ever brought it up again, he could always just say it hadn’t gone well. Reassuring himself with that thought, the Demoman stepped into the battle just in time to be headshot.

* * *

Demo opened his eye to the sound of someone tapping on his car. A few blinks and he was awake enough to process RED Soldier, who stood face pressed against the driver’s side window.

“Graham!” Soldier when he saw Demo was awake. “It’s me! Sorry I’m late.”

Retracting the seat back into a sitting position, Demo gazed at the dash clock to find he’d only been out for about forty minutes. He opened his door and stumbled out to the waiting Soldier, remembering to grab his keys as he went. Soldier immediately scooped him into a hug.

“Not here Major,” he wheezed as Soldier squeezed the air from his lungs. His eye flicked to the derelict gas station, wondering if the cashier had woken up as well.

“Sorry,” Soldier said, putting him back at arm’s length. “I’ve just been really worried. After…you know.” There was a question in his voice. A “what happened?” or a “how do we still have our jobs?” or maybe even a “did he hurt you again?”

“ _Not here_ ,” Demo repeated, indicating towards Soldier’s car.

It was a 1964 Thunderbird, lovingly cared for and, unsurprisingly, painted hotrod red. They got in, spitting gravel as they headed into town. As Demo recounted the events of that night, he carefully watched Soldier for a reaction. When he learned that BLU Soldier had killed Demo as well as himself, Soldier’s jaw clenched, silent outrage passing over his face. And when Demo got to the part about being slammed again the gymnasium wall, he couldn’t keep himself under control and longer.

“That just isn’t right!” he told Demo. “You are his teammate! He should not…you are supposed to look out for each other.” BLU Soldier’s disloyalty was more upsetting than being bludgeoned to death, apparently.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’,” Demo agreed. “He’s never acted like he was part o’ the team. At least now I understand a bit better why he takes all his shite out on me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Engie the day after that, and he says that Soldier dinnae always used tae be the way he is. He thought that respawn finally broke him, but I dunnae think so. I think that the WAR did that tae him.”

“The WAR?” Soldier said incredulously. “It was just a stupid competition.”

“No, nae to him. He hates the RED Demoman so much, he was willing tae kill him millions o’ times just for a couple o’ weapons. It wasn’t just a completion. It was somethin’ deeper.”

Soldier snorted. “Well, whatever it was, it was not worth it. I mean, the Gunboats aren’t even that _good_.”

“But the thing is,” Demo continued, “I dunnae get _why_. If he wasn’t a viscous dog back then, why would he get a sudden, unstoppable vendetta against the RED Demoman? Somethin’ happened to start that war, and I want tae ken what. That’s where you come in.”

Soldier raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re friends with your Demoman, aye? So if you ask him, he might just tell you the truth.”

Soldier hesitantly rubbed his thumb against the steering wheel. “I…do not know. Maybe.”

“C’mon,” Demo pressed, “dunnae want tae ken what happened? I mean, it sounds like it affected him too, from what you’ve told me. Think back: did he always use tae be like he is now? Was there a time when he wasn’t a sad sack layin’ at the keys?”

The wheels turned in Soldier’s head as he stared straight at the road.

“I do not know,” he said finally.

Demo sighed, now having much of a plan other than _get Soldier to snoop_. “Well, think on it at least.” He slung his arm over Soldier’s seat. “If I cannae convince you now, we can at least try to have a pleasant rest of the day.”

* * *

They ate lunch outside at a sandwich shop. The town was large and clean compared to Tuefort, but everywhere is large and clean compared to Tuefort. The sandwich shop was also large and clean, but New Mexico weather is never cold, even in fall, so they ate their lunch while watching the sunset. As they ate, Soldier filled Demo in on how they would spend the rest of the day.

“A drive-in? What are we, seventeen?”

Soldier blinked over his pastrami. “What? It will be a good movie. I want to go see it.”

“Dunnae you think it’d be a bit strange?” Demo asked. “Two grown men showin’ up at a drive-in? It’s nae exactly our crowd.”

“I have no idea what you mean. Going to a drive-in is very romantic.”

Mayo dripped onto Soldier’s shirt as he continued to eat his sandwich. Demo sighed. He hadn’t been to a drive-in in almost fifteen years, mostly because he had thought he’d grown out of them. Sure it was “romantic,” but the lot was going to be filled with horny teenagers making out; the two of them would stick out like Spy pretending to be a Pyro.

Demo didn’t have a car growing up in the Crypt Grammar School, but he had plenty of friends who did. Fond memories of steamy nights at the local drive-in ran through his mind as Soldier bustled him into the car, none of which involved watching the movie.

Most of those nights involved girls.

Only once was he able to sneak out with a boy, Gavin Monroe, cousin of Christy Monroe with the buckteeth. Demo had gone with Christy and Gavin had gone with Christy’s date and the two couples switched as soon as they were out of sight of the ticket booth. At the time, it was the height of teenage rebellion. The four of them felt so satisfied, tricking their parents, The Man, society; but now that Demo was older he realized how foolish it had been. They had risked everything just for a couple hours of public snogging. And wasn’t he doing the same now? Risking his job and his family just to be with this man?

As Soldier paid for their tickets, Demo beat back the doubts. Things were different now, he was older, more sure of himself, and certainly more careful. The incident with BLU Soldier had been a fluke, a product of his teammate’s paranoia. They could make this work. And if there was fallout, then he would deal with it.

Waiting for the movie to start, Demo realized he had been wrong about sticking out. In the car to their right, a woman sat staring at the screen. She was old, and more than that, she was completely alone. To their left _was_ a teenager, but he looked bored out of his mind and appeared to be there with his grandfather. Demo shook his head. Things sure had changed since he was a kid.

The movie began, flicking up the words “Hope in Darkened Night” across the screen. Waiting for the theater’s attention to be trained on the screen, Demo scooted closer to Soldier, pressing a kiss on his neck. Soldier barley reacted. As Demo continued his onslaught, he got a halfhearted peck on the lips, the only feedback from the Soldier at all. Ceasing his groping, Demo stared at the other man in amazement. Could it be? Was Soldier _actually_ watching the movie?

If so, he wasn’t the only one. The grandfather sat in rapt attention, hands clutching a box of Turkish Taffy he still hadn’t opened. The older woman was equally entranced; staring at the screen like the president was giving a speech. Now that Demo was paying attention, he realized “Hope in Darkened Night” wasn’t about passionate escapades when the lights go off: it was a war movie.

Only fifteen minutes in, and it had established that only a tight-knight group of brothers-in-arms stood between the Nazis and world domination. Main Guy stood before his fellow soldiers and gave a speech about bravery and standing strong for America. Out of the corner of his eye, Demo could see Soldier drink in every word. Of course Soldier found this romantic. Why hadn’t he seen that coming?

It went on, introducing Best Friend who Main Guy instantly bonded with over their shared pain of leaving loved ones behind. Demo found himself fascinated, not with the movie, but with the expressions that crossed Soldier’s often grumpy face. Every time Funny Guy cracked a joke, Soldier laughed, and Demo could hear faint chuckles come from the surrounding cars too. When Main Guy wrote letters home to his sweetheart, Demo glanced at the woman on a hunch. Her eyes were misty, and a shaking hand held a handkerchief to her mouth. At the end of the film, when Main Guy clutched desperately at his dying Best Friend, Soldier was crying too.

The credits rolled, and Demo came to reality with a jolt. He had been engrossed too, in his own way. Soldier turned to him smiling, drying his eyes on his sleeve.

“I noticed to stopped trying to feel me up partway through. Does that mean you liked the movie?”

“Oh,” Demo replied truthfully, “I had a good time.”


	7. The One With All the Thanksgivings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the Super Long Chapter™

As the Thunderbird raced along the road out of town, Soldier would not stop talking about the movie. His favorite part was when Main Guy had punched Hitler in the face, and, in his objective opinion, all movies could be improved by a scene where someone punches Hitler in the face. Demo listened to him fondly, now having a lot of practice staring at his driver.

“And the ending! Tragic and bittersweet! None of this crappy ‘love wins the day’ hippie nonsense! True realism, showing a dedication to their craft.”

Demo nodded. “Aye, it was…very sad. At least his mate was with him when he died.” A thought occurred to him. “You seemed pretty blue at that part. Did you loose someone in the war?”

“What?” Soldier said, surprised to be taken out his movie rant.

“I mean the real war, the one with Normandy and the Blitz and such. Probably a lot harder when your friends dunnae come back.”

Soldier clenched the steering wheel, an internal war making ripples in his face. Had that been crossing a line? Demo watched him with concern.

“There is no war without causalities,” Soldier finally replied.

“That…dinnae answer my question.”

Another long pause as Soldier opened and closed his hands.

“I will tell you about the war someday,” he said finally. “But not tonight. I can…It is…yes. Yes, I will tell you about it some other time.”

What the hell? All Demo had asked was if Soldier had lost anybody, he didn’t need a recount of all WWII.

“Besides,” Soldier finished, “didn’t you say you wanted today to be pleasant? We should talk about Thanksgiving things.”

He had a point there. It was a somber topic, and Demo didn’t want to push the RED anymore than he already had. He dropped the subject, and they spent the rest of the drive talking about a really good joke Funny Guy had told.

* * *

The car rolled up to the castle. Demo had forgotten about the raccoons.

The raccoons were Soldier’s fifth or sixth favorite topic, depending on whether or not you counted “weapons” and “explosives” as one thing. When Soldier got out of the car, they immediately jumped him, attempting to remove the mayo stain on his shirt by gnawing a large hole in it. He laughed in delight.

Demo stood awkwardly on the passenger side while the raccoons greeted their daddy. They wouldn’t get off of Soldier until the two humans were nearly at the door.

“Alright ladies, you know the drill. No being inside the castle while there’s company over.”

He managed to disperse the vermin, all except the largest one who chattered at him.

“Ah, I can’t say no to that face. C’mon Lieutenant,” Soldier said, scooping up the raccoon. It sat on his shoulder, chewing unsuccessfully at his helmet.

Demoman followed them inside.

Instead of joining them in the kitchen, Demo stopped when he glanced at a small pile of mail scattered inside the castle’s foyer. It had been shoved through the slot, but it looked old, like Soldier hadn’t bothered to collect it in a while. None of that was particularly interesting, however. What made Demo stop was the name printed above the mailing address.

 

 _Mary Major_  
_44456 Leon Ct._  
_Briar Fields, NM  
_ _87001_

Demo burst into the kitchen, clutching the letter triumphantly. “Your first name is _Mary_?”

Everything in the kitchen appeared to be from the 1920s, except for a fridge that looked suspiciously new. Soldier stood in front of it, glancing over his shoulder at the grinning Demoman.

“Yes,” Soldier replied, not the least bit embarrassed.

“I cannae believe you tried to hid this from me. This is even better than the ‘Major’ bit,” Demo chortled, throwing the mail on the island.

“I did not try to hide it from you.”

“Oh really?” Demo said skeptically. “Then why dinnae you tell me?”

“You did not ask.”

Demo frowned, not liking the taste of his own medicine.

Soldier smiled back, turning toward the fridge again. If he wanted to embarrass the Soldier, Demo was going to have to try a lot harder than that. Still contemplating sheer stupidity that was Soldier’s name, Demo was almost struck in the face as a tray of green beans came flying past his head. It was followed by sliced carrots. The fridge must have been some sort of pocket dimension, as Soldier was tossing out far more food than could possibly fit.

“I dinnae ken you could cook,” Demo said as a bowl of cranberry sauce clattered unceremoniously on the table.

“Pryo helped. A lot. She also wrote me some instructions so I can make the turkey tonight.”

“Well, that was might nice o’ him.”

The Pyro debate had raged between them furiously a month. Neither of them had quite let got of it, eventually settling that neither would convince the other over the firebug’s true gender. Soldier _insisted_ that Sniper had seen them without the mask, but after some prodding, he admitted that Sniper was probably coming back from a vision quest at the time.

Soldier pulled out the turkey itself, a huge twenty-pound bird that landed on the counter with a THUNK. Luitenant Bites got off Soldier’s shoulder and sniffed it eagerly. As Demo shooed the animal, Soldier pulled out a dozen deviled eggs.

“And these are the…” Soldier held a crayon-covered note to his face. “Horse divorce.”

“I think you mean ‘hors d'oeuvres’.”

Soldier peered closer at the note. “No, it very clearly says ‘horse divorce’.”

Demo opened his mouth to tell him it was French, but thought better of it. That would only set Soldier off about how Thanksgiving was an _American_ holiday, and Pyro would _know better_ than to have _French_ food, and might result in him throwing out the rather delicious looking eggs. Demo went to the cupboard and grabbed some plates.

“Are you sure you want tae start that turkey?” Demo said as he set the table for two. “A bird like that’s goin’ tae take at least a few hours tae cook, and it’s already eight o’clock. No way the two of us can finish it anyway”

“It is not Thanksgiving without turkey. Besides,” Soldier added, “I want your first Thanksgiving to be special.”

Demo put the last fork in place with a click. He stepped behind Soldier, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “It’s already pretty special,” he said as rested his head on Soldier’s shoulder. “It’s with you.”

If Demo balked at romantic interactions, Soldier couldn’t be more in his element, accepting every compliment like it was the most obvious thing in the world. But this was something different. Demo could feel Soldier hesitate in his arms, not sure how to respond. He turned around so the two of them were facing each other.

“I cannot be that special, can I?” Soldier asked. “I bet you have got a lot of people that care about you.”

Demo shrugged. “If you’re askin’ if I’ve got family, that’s a ‘no’. I grew up in an orphanage, no parents tae speak of. Everyone who’s important either works with me, or is back in Scotland.”

“Oh,” Soldier said, and Demo could practically see him giving the Sad Eyes through the helmet.

“Ah, dunnae give me that,” Demo replied. “It’s nae so bad. Me team’s great; they’re the closest friends I ever had. And I suppose they’re me _real_ family when it comes down to it.”

Soldier brightened. “It’s like that for me too. I had a family, but they were nothing like RED. RED is…home.” He paused, an expression on his face Demo recognized. It was the same one from the car, like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “My old family, my fist family, they um…Well I had a sister. She was great, I loved her. But it was so long ago I do not really…remember her all that well.

“I remember, during the holidays, we would be happy. Mother made good yams. They were my favorite. We would play football with my cousins, and I would get picked first because I was strong even when I was a kid. Those are the things I try to remember. And then forget the other bits.”

Shifting on his feet, Soldier refused to make eye contact, instead looking out the window.

Feeling like he should prompt Soldier, Demo asked “you forgot on your own, or you forgot on purpose?”

Soldier swallowed. “It was…confusing. Sometimes I would be mixed up, and Father would yell and hit me if did not understand something. I would forget things a lot, and I was not as smart as the other kids. When I said things that were wrong he got angry because…I think when we were happy during the holidays, that was just us pretending. Trying to be like families on TV, but we really weren’t. Mother and Father would go back to screaming and blame each for me, and when I got older Father found out…he found out…”

“Hey, hey we dunnae have tae talk about this, alright?” Demo put his hands on the other mercenary’s shoulders. Soldier’s voice had become almost emotionless, like he was retreating back into himself.

“No-” He started, “no I want to talk. I have never been able to with anyone. I-” He blinked, but his eyes were dry. “He made me leave. I did not get to say goodbye to my sister. And now I can’t even remember her name. I lost her twice.”

Pulling him into a hug, Demo stared over Soldier’s shoulders to the darkened castle grounds. His own life suddenly seemed like a cakewalk by comparison, draining but never lonely.

They were on the edge of something, Demo could feel it. He pulled back, opening his mouth to say something, something important, something that would make Soldier feel like things were going to be okay, and that they were in this together. But before he could so much as say his name, Soldier held a hand to his chest.

“You are right,” he said, stopping the Demoman. “We should not make the turkey tonight. We will have all day tomorrow.” He turned around and began putting the bird away.

Not sure if he was relieved or disappointed, Demo put the potatoes in the oven to warm up. By the time they were ready, the two of them had set out the cranberry sauce, green beans, rolls, and carrots. There weren’t any yams.

Soldier seemed placid now, less like was going to fracture any second. Maybe asking so many personal questions in one night had put him on edge, but whatever it was, he calmed as they set out the food. He warmly told Demo that Pyro had made a pumpkin pie, but it had been irreparably burned during cranberry time. Demo told him that, considering who his fellow chef was, he was surprised that was the only casualty.

Though the castle had a few flickering electric lights, Soldier lit a candle on the table anyway.

As dates went, it could be worse.

“Now we have to say all the things we’re thankful for,” Soldier said as they sat in their chairs. “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat and folded his hands. “Dear Lord, thank you for ending the great Turkey War of 1777 so that we may celebrate while not under the tyrannical rule of our turkey overlords. Thank you for Shakespearicles, who without, we would not have America. By the way, thanks for America.” He took a deep breath, but didn’t slow down. “Thank you for making me RED and not BLU. Thank you for Medic, Heavy, Sniper, Demoman, Spy, Scout, Pyro, Engineer and Pauling. Thank you for the Lieutenant, and thank you for Merasmus, but only sometimes.” He cracked on one eye open to look at the man across from him. “And thank you for Graham. He makes me very happy and I am glad you sent him to me. Amen.”

Demo folded his hands and cast his eye up toward God. “Aye. What he said.”

They shared a smiled and tucked in.

* * *

“I’m really bloody glad we dinnae have that turkey.”

Demo lay sprawled out on the couch, a helmetless Soldier on top of him. Normally after consuming copious amounts of Thanksgiving dinner, having two hundred pounds of soldier laying on you is the last thing you want. However, since Soldier’s fingers were rubbing wonderful knots in Demo’s overstuffed stomach, the situation was bearable.

“Why do you have no self-control when it comes to food?” Soldier asked, rubbing a thumb just under Demo’s navel.

“I see the bottle, I drink. I see the food, I eat. It’s the way a man’s got tae live if he wants to survive in this dog eat dog world.”

“You did not eat any dog,” Soldier corrected. “You did not even eat any bird.”

“’S a figure of speech lad.” The next thing that came out of Demo’s mouth was a soft moan as Soldier pressed into a particularly sensitive spot. “Oooh…oh that’s it.”

Soldier put his hands flat on Demo’s stomach and gently leaned forward until their lips brushed. “Feeling any better?”

“I dunnae think I will ever feel better again. Ever.”

“Oh,” Soldier said, the note of disappointment impossible to miss.

Demo opened his eye lazily. “In fact, I think I’m about ready for bed.”

“Oh!” This time when he said it, Soldier nearly fell on the ground. “I, uh, am ready for bed too!”

“What a coincidence,” Demo said as Soldier helped him to his feet.

Soldier held his hand almost shyly as they made their way up the stairs. They stopped in front of a large set of double doors, gothic-molding surrounding the impressive feature.

“So, this is my room,” Soldier said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s very nice. And where will I be sleepin’?”

“What?” Soldier sputtered. When Demo only raised an eyebrow in response he stumbled on. “I thought we were…? When we planned tonight I thought… You said… I…I thought we were spending the night together.”

Mock surprise filled Demo’s face. “Spend the night together? Why Mister Major, this is only our fist date!”

Soldier stood utterly bewildered for a good thirty seconds. That then turned into irritation and he punched Demo in the shoulder.

“You goddamned skirt twirling ninny, I should-”

Demo was laughing his ass off. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But you should have seen your _face_.” Demo pushed Soldier against the door, peppering the aforementioned face with kisses.  
It was difficult to stay mad at the Demoman, especially when the kisses got deeper and a thigh snuck up to gently rub the front of Soldier’s pants. Soldier made a soft noise of encouragement, and Demo grabbed the handle to the bedroom. They pushed inside, not bothering to admire interior decorating.

Falling onto the bed, they wrapped themselves in one another, trying to touch every inch. Demo’s fingers popped the buttons of Soldier’s shirt one by one, running over the skin underneath. Discarding the shirt, Demo reached for his own. Soldier helped, grabbing the edges and pulling it over the Demoman’s head before dragging him down into a deep kiss. Even as he got a nip on the neck, Soldier slid his hands down Demo’s back, grabbing his ass and holding their bodies together.

“God you’re gorgeous,” Demo whispered against Soldier’s collarbone. Not that he could actually _see_ Soldier very well right now, but he was still pretty sure it was true.

Soldier responded by moving a hand back up Demo’s body. It slipped under Demo’s cap, tossing it aside and moving through his freed curls. He grinded against the thigh still between his legs.

Demo sat up, trailing his hands down to the edge of Soldier’s jeans. Although his concentration was on opening the fly, he revealed in the knowledge that Soldier was staring at him breathlessly. He tugged the jeans off.

Soon Demo was a mirror of the man beneath him as he wriggled free of his own pants, tossing them onto the Turkish rug. They pulled each other close again, tasting each other, sharing the same breath.

“Fuck…” Soldier mumbled as Demo’s fingers worked their way into his briefs.

Hand wrapped around Soldier’s cock, Demo worked them out of their underwear. Nothing separated them, Demo’s length now pressing against Soldier’s as he pumped both of them. Soldier pressed his mouth against Demo’s neck.

“Slow down…”

Right. He had almost forgotten what tonight was about.

Demo let go, placing his hands flat on the bed on either side of Soldier’s head. He pressed their foreheads together, letting them breathe in tandem.

“You ready?” He asked softly.

For a moment, there were only soft breaths from the other man. Then, hesitantly, he felt Soldier nod.

“Alright luv, turn over.”

But Soldier shook his head. “I want to look at you.”

“Well, I dunnae blame you. I mean who _wouldn’t_?” When Soldier didn’t laugh, Demo explained. “Your first time will be easier if you’re facin’ the other way.”

Soldier pouted.

“Oh dunnae give me that. I promise you: it’s goin’ tae be a lot less uncomfortable in you’re on your tummy.”

Soldier folded his arms, unconvinced.

“C’mon,” Demo insisted, moving down to press a kiss against Soldier’s stomach. “On your tum.”

His beard brushed against rough skin, making Soldier giggle.

“Oh? Does that tickle?”

“No,” Soldier lied.

“Then what about this?” Demo dug his fingers into Soldier’s exposed ribcage. “Does this tickle?”

Demo grinned as Soldier cracked, his loud laughter filling the abandoned castle. But Demo didn’t stop there, moving his hands under Soldier’s arm to find its sensitive spot. Shaking with laughter, Soldier eventually turned onto his stomach to protect his weak points.

Taking a few breaths, Soldier said into the pillow, “that is coercion.”

Demo kissed him on the back of the neck. “Sorry. But you were being a brat.”

That got him a small “harrumph.”

“Hey,” Demo said, moving his hands to Soldier’s shoulders, “let me make it up to you.”

This time when he dug his fingers in, he got a pleased moan instead of a laugh. Tight from the duress of the tickle fight, Soldier melted into the mattress under Demo’s careful hands. This was how Demo liked him best, after all. Every soft sound that escaped from the Soldier went straight to his groin, reminding him how much he loved making the RED feel good. He let his cock rub against Soldier’s leg, and it didn’t escape notice. Soldier pushed back against him, grinding into crotch. Demo let out a soft sound of his own.

“Graham…” Soldier muttered. He was right. It was time to pick up the pace again.

“I hope you got some stuff ahead o’ time, ‘cause I dinnae bring any.”

Soldier nodded. “Right stand. Top drawer.”

Demo found the little bottle of lube, spreading it onto his fingers. He pressed one inside the Soldier, getting nothing more than a soft hiss. Soldier was used to this by now, after all, but they had never done anything more than two fingers. Taking his time, Demo worked Soldier open, loosening the tight ring of muscle protecting his insides. Rushing now would be the worst thing to do; he wanted Soldier to feel as good as possible tonight, and that required patience.

When he got to the third finger, Soldier let out a whine.

“Okay Major?” Demo asked, his own voice slightly strained.

“Yeah,” Soldier replied shakily. “But that is the last one, right? The next one is going to be it?”

“Aye. But, I’ll warn you, I’m a bit bigger than most.”

“I’ve seen your dick before,” Soldier grumbled into the pillow.

“I ken. But it’s different when it’s…you ken… _inside_ -”

“Jesus, just _go_ already.”

Soldier was getting impatient. To be honest, Demo _was_ going slower than necessary, but only because he wanted to be absolutely sure Soldier could take him. He spread his fingers apart, then curled them back against Soldier’s insides. That got Soldier’s attention, making him moan even louder than during the massage.

Demo withdrew his hand. He could feel Soldier tense beneath him, knowing that it was really happening now, that this was it. Lining up his hips with Soldier’s, he took one more breath. He wasn’t nervous. He had done this dozens of times before. He wasn’t at all worried about hurting Soldier or ruining their night together or somehow fucking it up when he was supposed to be the expert on this.

Fuck.

“’M ready,” Soldier said despite the nervousness in his voice.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Demo began pushing himself in. Sinking into the warm flesh was incredible, his cock soaking up the sensation. Halfway in and his muscles were spasming, desperately wanting to thrust. Soldier said something, but it was more of a babble of words than anything coherent. It may have been the word “fuck” repeated over and over again. Finally, Demo managed to fit all the way in, his efforts of stretching Soldier paying off. They stayed like that for a moment, joined together, trying to catch their breath.

“Go,” Soldier repeated, quieter this time.

Nails digging into Soldier’s hips, legs quaking with the effort of restraint, Demo began to move.

“AH!” Soldier’s eyes snapped open as Demo hit his mark.

He let out even louder shout when Demo hit him again, finding the perfect rhythm. Burying his face into the pillow, it turned into something of a sob as he was overwhelmed with pure euphoria. Demo pumped into him, sliding in and out of his lubricated body, finding exactly where to go to reduce him to a whimpering puddle.

The Demoman concentrated harder than he ever had before. He snaked his hand around to Soldier’s front, pumping him in time with the thrusts. Dropping down onto his other hand, he lay on top of Soldier, back to chest. He tried to press a kiss to Soldier’s neck, but he was so disorientated he only managed to put his open mouth against his shoulder blade. It was impossible to focus. The body around his cock felt so _good_ , and the noises Soldier was making sounded _wonderful_ , and _fuck_ he would need to slow down if…

He needn’t have worried. Soldier came, spreading himself over the quilt they hadn’t bothered to remove. With no reason to hold back, Demo pounded into the shorter man. Soldier grunted, taking in the last few thrusts as Demo finished. A brief moan and Demo filled him, collapsing against his back. Taking ragged breaths, he felt Soldier’s heart beat against his own, a stallion’s pace, fast and exciting that nothing else besides the trill of war could bring. He rolled to them on their side, cock still embedded in the Soldier.

Eventually, he had enough presence of mind to pull out. It was unique experience, climaxing at the same time; sex was usually a give and take, favor for a favor. For once, it was nice to share a moment together, coming off the high as one. Demo trailed his hand along Soldier’s back, feeling the rippling muscles beneath. He wanted to sink his fingers back into them, to work out the tension nestled there, but he no longer had the energy. Instead, he nuzzled Soldier’s head, still sunk into the pillow.

No response.

Demo felt doubt creep into him. “Hey, you alright?”

Soldier took a few more breaths, his broad back rising and falling in time. Eventually, he turned his head toward the ceiling. His eyes were a little unfocused, but content. “Mm. Bit embarrassing.”

It took Demo a moment to figure out what he meant.

“Psh, so you came a wee bit early? It’s just the one time, no big deal. Besides,” Demo added, nosing Soldier’s jaw, “means I was doin’ things right. I should take it as a compliment.”

Soldier rolled on his side, wrapping one arm around the exhausted Demoman. They lay for a couple moments longer, noses pressed together, listening to the sound of raccoons chattering outside the window.

“So,” Demo said, breaking the comfortable silence, “we incorporatin’ this into our routine?”

Soldier nodded. “Yeah. Tonight was…”

“Fun?”

“Wonderful,” Soldier corrected.

Relief welled up inside Demo. He wanted to say something like “that’s good to hear,” but suddenly found himself too tired to talk. Thanksgiving dinner came back all at once, and he wanted nothing more than to just close his eye while he wrapped his arms around the man next to him.

As he was drifting away, he heard Soldier talk to him again.

“I don’t think I ever apologized for the first time we met.”

“The first time we met you probably turned me into gibs,” Demo replied faintly.

“I mean when we _met_ met,” Soldier continued. “I blamed you for being a pervert, even though I was the one who…I just couldn’t stand anybody knowing. I tried so hard no to let my team know or find out, and then I let my guard down…It already lost me one family, I didn’t want it to loose me another.”

Barely conscious, Demo put a hand to the side of Soldier’s face, thumb tracing where the lip had split all those months ago.

“Nothin’ tae apologize for.”

He couldn’t hold on after that.

A few seconds later, when Soldier said goodnight, he didn’t hear it.

* * *

Morning.

Alone.

Demo stumbled out of bed, taking forever to find the shower. It took even longer to figure out how to work it, the plumbing decades old. He didn’t see Solider again until he walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning! Happy Black Friday!” Soldier greeted him cheerily. He looked like he had been up for hours.

“Mornin’. Why dinnae you wake me?”

“At five it is time to feed the recruits. You looked very tired, so I left you. Eggs?”

“Sure, eggs sound great.”

Demo poured himself some coffee, then blanched as he realized the pot had been out for the past four hours. He put it back on the stove. “I dinnae think tae pack any clothes for the weekend, so I borrowed some of yours. I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine.” Despite his casual tone, Soldier looked like he couldn’t be more pleased with the Demoman’s choice of dress. He put some singed eggs on the table.

“It took me a while to find somethin’ that wasn’t red,” Demo said as he sat in front of breakfast. “It’s gotta be some sort of blasphemy if I wear any o’ that.” He had settled on a green t-shirt with the words “Lecture Valley: From Our Filthy Hands To Your Mouth” printed on the front.

Soldier sat in the same spot he had last night, eating a piece of buttered toast. Suddenly, the domesticity of it all hit Demo like a train. Here they were, waking up in a home, eating breakfast together, probably spending the rest of the day together too. The thought made him sad for some reason.

“Shame we cannae do this all the time,” he said to his eggs.

“Do what?”

Demo gestured to the kitchen. “All of this. After this weekend, it’s back tae weekly meetings and shagging in closets. It would be nice tae just…nae have tae worry. Tae be like this. Tae be normal.”

“Us? Normal?” Soldier laughed. “If I know one thing about working for RED is that nobody who picks our line of work is ‘normal’.”

There it was again: _our line of work._ A reminder that being a demoman and having a home life just didn’t mix. Demo shrugged, putting a forkful of eggs in his mouth. Soldier noticed the change in mood.

“There is nothing wrong with not being normal. We just don’t see each other as often. Or talk about each other to our friends. Or hold hands in public. Or…oh.” Now Soldier felt sad too.

They sat in silence, the earlier cheer evaporated. Soldier bit his lip, contemplating something he wasn’t sure if Demo would like. Carefully, he tested the waters.

“But we can see each other even more when we’re outside of work.”

Demo looked up questioningly.

“Now that you know where I live,” Soldier continued, “we don’t even really have to schedule a meeting. You could just come right on over. And, uh, if you really liked staying here, you wouldn’t even have go back to your house at all.”

Now Demo was looking at him with curiosity.

“And since you would be here a lot more than your house, you should probably have some clothes here. And maybe move some of your other stuff too. Just so you’re, uh, comfortable,” Soldier finished lamely.

Demo blinked a few times before letting a gentle smile come over his face.

“I think that’s a great plan you have right there Mister Major.”

“You do?”

“Aye. I do.”

They ate the rest of their breakfast quietly, holding hands across the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jane Doe is used for unidentified bodies in morgues and hospitals. I remembered that sometimes they use different names for that, so I went to the Wikipedia page. turns out it’s also used for anonymous court cases, and lo and behold there is an “Alternate” name for when people don’t use Jane Doe: Mary Major.  
> I thought that couldn’t be a more perfect name for the Soldier. ‘cause you know, *Major*


	8. Shut Up and Die You Prick

“Get back here and kill me proper you slimy weasel!”

His demand unheeded, Demo fell to the ground, clutching the painful wound in his stomach. He had been on his way to the front lines, trying to stop the RED Scout from getting away with the final intelligence, but the RED Spy had delayed him. Uncloaking, Spy delivered an almost fatal backstab, but Demo heard the noise and turned just in time. He got a nasty gash across his shoulder as a reward, and, too close to be parried, Spy followed it up with a slash through Demo’s gut. After that, Spy danced out of the Eyelander’s reach, taking a potshot as he retreated. Demo hadn’t seen him since.

A few minutes later, the loudspeakers blared “defeat!” meaning the RED Scout had gotten back unopposed. Demo was sure the Spy would come to finish him off now that he was defenseless and mortally wounded, but no such luck. Instead, he had to lie here in pain, without even a way to off himself. He curled on his side. Maybe one of the other REDs would come around to do him in.

“Graham!”

Ah good. Someone he could trust to deliver him the sweet mercy of death.

“Graham,” Soldier said, skidding to a halt. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“I’m _really_ not in the mood tae talk today. Can it wait?”

“No.” With that, Soldier grabbed him under the arms and began dragging him into BLU’s intelligence building.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” Demo protested. He struggled. At least before he had been able to hold his intestines inside himself; that helped the pain a little.

“Shush!” Soldier said as he laid the Demoman on the stone floor.

Distantly, Demo could hear the distinctive tinkling of the RED Heavy approaching. Before he could say anything, Soldier rushed back out the door, presumably to intercept his incoming teammate. As Demo listened to them talk, he lay flat on his back, thankful that he hadn’t been dragged all the way to the basement where he would have to lie ass-down in two inches of questionable water. The tinkling receded, and Soldier came back into the building.

“Why the _fuck_ did you drag me over here?” Demo demanded, “My insides are on my outsides! Do you ken how much this hurts right now?”

“I’m sorry,” Soldier said as he knelt beside him, “but this is really important.”

“Well then get on with it,” Demo grumbled. “I dunnae want tae be here all day.”

“It’s going to take a while to tell you everything.”

It had been a week since they last saw each other. Worry lines creased Soldier’s face, making him look older than he had any right to. He wouldn’t drag Demo out here just to talk about the Lieutenant’s latest hijinks; it must be something major.

Demo sighed. “Well at least go get me a medkit so I’m nae bleedin’ out while we talk.”

Soldier nodded, immediately sprinting off without a word. Demo took a moment to examine his wound. It was deep, cutting through the lining of his stomach. If he took a drink right now it’d fall right back out. Any other man would pass out from the injury, but Demo had been doing this for seven years; it was nothing compared to some of the other shit he’d been put through. Of course, that didn’t make it a pleasant experience.

Solider came back with the medkit. As the Soldier stuffed his vital organs back inside him, Demo couldn’t help but be reminded of the movie they had seen together. The blood had been a lot less realistic.

“Oof,” Demo said as Soldier pulled the bandage tight.

Solider stared at Demo, but his eyes seemed to go through him.

“So…you goin’ tae tell me something or do you like seein’ blood congeal on concrete?”

His eyes flicked back to Demo. “Do you remember on Thanksgiving? When you said I should ask Demoman about the WAR? Well I did.”

That piqued Demo’s interest.

“He said that it didn’t start out with work. RED and BLU did not become involved until later, when the Administrator found out.”

“Found out? Found out what?”

“He and the BLU Soldier used to be friends.”

Demo sat in shocked silence for a moment. Then he let out a huge laugh, one that sent waves of pain through his ripped stomach.

“ _Soldier_? _Friends_? Have you _met_ the man? He _hates_ RED. In fact, he probably hates you guys more than the rest of BLU combined. And that includes how much Medic hates your Spy.” Demo shook his head. “No way. Your Demoman must have just told you that tae get you off his back. Tryin’ tae hide the real reason.”

“He was not lying,” Soldier said with certainty.

Demo was taken aback. He stared at Soldier, wondering how he could be so sure.

“Alright,” Demo allowed, “suppose they were friends. Why did they fight a war if they were such good mates?”

“BLU wasn’t happy they were friends. They offered the Soldier new weapons in exchange for killing Demoman. He said he would do it.”

Demo snorted. “Now that part doesnae surprise me. He probably couldnae believe his luck: gettin’ tae kill a RED and new weapons tae boot? Must have been like Smismass mornin’.”

Soldier looked like he wanted to disagree, but he let the issue drop. “RED also wanted Demoman to kill the Soldier, but he did not want to do it. He only did it because he was sad his friend was trying to kill him.”

Something about the story didn’t add up, but it made sense from a logical standpoint. Demo still couldn’t wrap his head around BLU Soldier voluntarily becoming close to a RED unless it was to snap their neck, but it seemed like the mystery was as solved as it was going to get.

As if reading his mind, Soldier interrupted. “There’s more.”

Demo snapped out of his thoughts.

“After I talked to him about all of this, Demoman got really sad. He did not come out his room for a few days, and barely talked to me. So I thought I should apologize. But when I went to, he was playing sad drunk piano again. I tried to talk to him, but he started crying. And then he said it was his fault. And then he…kissed me.”

To say that Demo was shocked would be like saying that Saxton Hale is manly. His mouth hung open, so far from forming words it might as well have been full of gravel.

“I think they may have been more than just friends,” Soldier finished quietly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking in the revelation.

“Well,” Demo said, the only thing to say in this situation.

“Yeah,” Soldier agreed. “So, that is what I wanted to tell you. I, uh, also want you to know that I didn’t kiss him back. He was crying and I felt really bad for him so I let him kiss me, but I didn’t kiss him back.” He stared at Demo expectantly.

“Oh…well, that’s good of you I suppose.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Well,” Demo said hesitantly, “I’m nae goin’ tae pretend I’m _pleased_ you’re goin’ around kissin’ other guys that look like me, but since you were doin’ it tae help out a friend I’ll forgive it. Just dunnae go makin’ it a habit, alright?”

Relieved, Soldier took Demo’s hand. “Thanks Graham.”

“Dunnae mention it.”

Soldier pulled Demo’s head into his lap, stroking his hair with one hand and massaging his wrist with the other. Sitting like this, Demo almost couldn’t feel his stomach. Almost.

“There’s one more thing,” Soldier added as he continued his soothing motions, “but you’re not going to like it.”

Demo leaned his head back slightly, just to let him know he was listening.

“I think we need to get them back together.”

Soldier waited expectantly for a response, but Demo remained quiet, like he hadn’t even heard him.

“Graham? You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Demo grunted. “I was hoping I would bleed out fast enough that I wouldn’t have to respond to that.”

“I’m _serious_ Graham.”

“So am I!” Demo snapped. “Why the hell would we want tae get them back together? They hate each other. You said it yourself: Soldier sold him out for a pair of booties. They should stay as far away from each other as humanly possible.”

“But I don’t think they meant to hurt each other,” Soldier protested. “I think BLU manipulated the Soldier just as much as RED manipulated Tavish. And I know he blames himself, he’s so miserable he barely comes out of his room. You were right. The WAR messed with him too. If we get them to just _talk_ to one another, maybe we can help set things right.”

“Oh is that it then? You feel bad for your friend and you think that getting them tae ‘just talk’ will make him a less of a depressin’ lump? Well forget it. No way am I ever speakin’ tae Soldier about any of this, least of all tae do him somethin’ out o’ goodwill.”

“But don’t you see?” Soldier shifted them so they were facing each other, holding Demo by the shoulders. “They’re _us_.”

“Dunnae go havin’ a crisis o’ identity on me, mate,” Demo barked. “We’re _nae_ the same. You should know by now that you cannae look across the enemy lines and see yourself, or you start questionin’ everythin’ it means tae be an individual. I’m nae RED and you’re nae BLU and _we’re different people_ , ones who make different choices and different mistakes than the other two idiots who blew each other tae bits all those years ago.”

Soldier looked at him mournfully. “I did not mean it like that,” he said, trying to put his thoughts into words. “I meant…we could _become_ them.”

Anger evaporated, Demo blinked at the man before him.

“Every time I think about it,” Soldier continued, “I see us. I see what we would be if something were to happened, if we were to fall apart. If that night Soldier found us, he could have told BLU. _It could have been us_. We came so close to starting the cycle over again, it terrifies me. I just…” Soldier hung his head. “…I have to know that things can be made right again.”

Demo extended a hand to Soldier’s face. He didn’t have the same faith Soldier did. In fact, if RED Demoman and BLU Soldier were ever in the same room, it would probably end in a gory mess for all parties involved. But, fuck it, if Soldier needed this, then it was worth a shot.

“Alright,” Demo said, and Soldier raided his head, “I’ll help. But we cannae just do this will-nilly. We’ll need a plan.”

“I’ll make one,” Soldier confirmed.

“Good. Then it’s settled: Operation Get These Assholes tae Make Up is a go.”

Soldier kissed him, light and chaste, a kiss that simply said “thank you.” The sat for a few more minutes, eyes closed, nothing more to say.

“If you’re well and truly finished,” Demo said, the red running through the bandage and seeping onto his legs, “I’d really appreciate a bullet between the eyes.”

Soldier gave him one. But not before planting a kiss there first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last two chapters will be up on saturday!


	9. She’s Going to Blow Up My Garden and Pee on My House

“Victory!”

Shit.

Three weeks of careful planning and yet they didn’t factor in a BLU victory. Demo rushed to the meeting spot, hoping against hope that God hadn’t decided to fuck them today.

They only had one shot.

If the BLU Soldier attacked or refused to listen, or if the RED Demoman walked out, that was it. There were no do-overs, only one Humiliation round to undo five years of pain. Lord help them.

He skidded to a halt on RED’s side of Sawmill, standing inconspicuously just outside the lake. There were voices approaching, two of them, meaning Soldier had managed to hold his end of the plan.

“Because it’s a _surprise_ , that’s why.”

“I dunnae care if it’s the bloody Queen! I just want tae go back base and have a drink.”

“You’re going to do that anyway. And I promise you, you’re going to like this. Now hop to, private!”

The two REDs rounded the corner, Soldier dragging the Demoman by the arm. And he really was _dragging_ him; Soldier had a grip like iron when he wanted something to go his way.

“Well, it looks like whatever you were goin’ tae show me will have tae wait,” the Demoman said as his BLU counterpart stepped into view. The Demoman’s expression was sour, but he made no move to run. It was usually pretty pointless unless you were Scout.

His face quickly moved from agitation to confusion as Soldier dropped his arm and walked up to the BLU.

“Where is he?” Soldier asked.

“He’ll be here.”

“’He’ll be here’? I got mine all the way out to the lake and all you can manage is ‘he’ll be here’?”

“Dunnae pretend you had tae kick and scream. It looks like all you had tae do was take him by the hand and he came along like a leashed puppy.”

The RED Demoman looked between the bickering couple, completely flabbergasted. “Mary, what in God’s name is going on here?”

“Not now, Tav,” Soldier hushed.

Tavish was about ask another perplexed question, when the meeting was interrupted by an incoming rocket jump.

“This better be important, maggot,” the BLU Soldier said as recovered from his landing and stepped out of the shed. “I do not have all-”

“Now!”

Demo jumped his teammate, grabbing his arms and pulling him off his feet. The RED Soldier wasn’t far behind, grabbing the rocket launcher and ripping it from its owner’s hands. A dozen curse words already on his lips, BLU Soldier struggled as Demo pulled him into a full nelson. The Gunboats hit nothing but air as he kicked out, and soon his legs were restrained by his RED doppelganger. With the element of surprise, it was a rather easy rematch.

“Let go of me you scum sucking lowlifes! I will tear your arms off and _beat_ you with them!”

The hard part over, there was nothing left to do but wait until he calmed down enough to talk to. Tavish was still watching the scene with bewilderment. The man didn’t seem to have many emotions beyond “sad” and “confused.”

“You unwashed bleeders! You mewling milk-livered codpieces!”

“Wow,” Demo noted, “that’s some Shakespearian level insults you got goin’ on, Soldier.”

The BLU directed his rage solely at Demo.

“I should have known this would happen! I should have known hanging around _him_ would turn you into a Goddamned quisling!”

Demo rolled his eye. “I’m nae a traitor, Soldier. We just want you tae relax so we can all have a nice little chat.”

“Oh? Is that all? In that case, let’s talk. I am sure you can tell me all about the benefits of joining RED: guilt-free puppy kicking, excellent dental. All things a pansy like you would enjoy.”

“You should be nicer to your teammates,” the RED Soldier grumbled, arms still holding the steel plated feet.

“I did not ask you, hippie!”

The BLU carried on like that, taking great care to not so much as _look_ at the other Demoman present for their little party.

“I am telling you one more time: unhand me or I will burn your house down and then make you _wish_ you were inside.”

“We’ll let you go once you’ve stopped screamin’ your bloody head off.”

BLU Soldier stilled. Eyes studied Demo from under a steel grey helmet, pondering something.

“Alright. I’m calm.” There was a mocking edge to his voice.

Demo shared a glance with RED Soldier, not sure what to do. If he went back on his word, it might destroy the momentary peace they had just achieved. But if he let the BLU go and he attacked, the whole day would go up in smoke. The RED nodded.

Carefully, they set BLU Soldier back on the ground. He didn’t immediately pounce, instead looking between the two of them with disdain.

“Alright,” he sneered, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Actually,” Demo corrected, “we wanted you tae talk tae him.” He gestured at Tavish, still awestruck and unsure if he should leave or not. Both he and the BLU Soldier stiffened.

“What for?” The BLU asked stiffly.

“Because people who love each other should not fight!” RED Soldier blurted.

Demo resisted the urge to smack him on the side of the head.

The two ex-lovers stared in shock. They never thought they would have to talk about this, least of all in front of a member of the enemy team. The BLU’s pretentious demeanor crumbled, once again being replaced by a furious need to snap someone’s neck. The only thing holding him back was the fact that he had three potential targets, and he couldn’t decide who he wanted to kill more. However, as enraged as he was, he wasn’t the first one to crack.

“Mary, what have you _done_?” Tavish yelled at his teammate, betrayal and hurt written on his face.

“You said you wish you had talked to him,” Soldier explained. “Well now’s your chance!”

“That was before! Why would you go and…” Tavish risked a glance at the other Soldier, who glared back with pure loathing in his eyes. “No. Forget it, I’m out. It’s too late for talking.” He turned to go.

“Tavish, wait!” The RED Soldier took a step, as if to go after his teammate.

“Forget it, cupcake. Welcome to the real world, where people walk and goody-two-shoes heart eyes don’t mean shit,” the BLU said. What had been steaming rage a moment ago was now a sizzling hatred, complete with a bitterness that imbued every bit of his voice. “Besides, there’s nothing here worth fixing.”

Tavish stopped, frozen in place. Although the BLU Soldier still hadn’t said anything to him, it was obvious who that last jab was aimed at. He turned around.

“What’s the matter, RED? Weren’t you leaving?” The BLU folded his arms.

“That’s nae fair,” Tavish muttered quietly.

“What was that Cyclops?” Soldier asked, knowing the insult would sting. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“That’s nae fair, Jane.”

Jane’s face immediately snapped from mocking to downright furious.

“Shut the _fuck_ up. You do not _get_ to call me that you backstabbing-”

“Just because things ended the way they did doennae mean I dinnae love you.” Tavish hadn’t meant to say that. He had meant to turn and leave and not start this because he knew what Jane would say. His mouth opened a closed a few times, but the words were already out, and he couldn’t do anything to bring them back. Tavish looked at Jane, tired and broken and full of all the things that made going on living insurmountably difficult. In the end, there was nothing to but keep going. “I would never have done any of it if I had a choice. I loved you so fuckin’ much, and I…I still do.”

Jane’s eyes were cold. “I shouldn’t have believed that before. I sure as hell don’t believe it now.”

Defeat clouded Tavish’s face.

“No! He really does mean it,” Soldier interrupted.

This time, Demo did cuff him.

Jane glared at the both of them, having remembered they were there. It was a little intimidating to be honest, but they were saved a moment later when Tavish gave another attempt.

“Jane…”

He looked like he didn’t know what to say after that. Frankly, Demo was fucking tired of all this pussyfooting around.

“Tell him you’re _sorry_ you daft idiot!”

Tavish shot his double a look of pure malice. Demo backed away into the shed, dragging Soldier with him.

“Jane, I’m sorry,” Tavish said, despite his doubts. “I’m so sorry for everything. When they came tae me with the offer I said no, I did. But then they said you had taken it and if felt like…fuck it felt like you had ripped up everything we built and I wanted tae hurt you in the same way that you hurt me…And I dinnae think until later, years later, that maybe they told you the same thing? That they told both of us that the other had betrayed them, just tae make us fight?”

There was a question in his confession, a desperate plea that Jane really hadn’t taken the offer first. A hope that they had been manipulated or tricked or whatever and it wasn’t either of their faults.

“So that’s why you did it, huh?” Jane demanded. “That’s why you sold me out, just because they said I took a hit on you?”

“I…”

“Well you know what? They _did_ tell me you took the deal first. And I. Did. Not. Believe. Them.”

“Then why-” Tavish began.

“BECAUSE THEY TOLD ME WHAT YOU SAID.”

Tavish blinked in surprise, the statement clearly taking him off guard.

Soldier raised his eyebrow at Demo, silently asking if he knew what the BLU was talking about. Demo shook his head.

“AFTER YOU DECIDED TO **KILL ME** , YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD JUST SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT, HUH? WHAT WAS THAT? ‘HURT YOU IN THE SAME WAY YOU HURT ME’? WELL IT WORKED YOU SON OF A BITCH.” Soldier took a choked breath. “It fucking worked.”

“Jane, I dunnae have any idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“They played the recording for me,” Jane said, definitely and most certainly not crying. “I know…you…I know you called me a…” The accusation could barely make it through his lips. “… _a civilian_.”

Demo heard Soldier take in a sharp breath, but he was too absorbed in the scene playing out before him to spare a glance.

“ _A what_?” Tavish was just as taken aback as his audience. “I never said that.”

“Don’t bother lying to me you fucking bastard,” Soldier growled.

“Jane,” Tavish said as he took a step, and Demo tried to send a mental _no no no keep your distance he’s going to flip_ but it didn’t reach its recipient. “I would _never_ call you a civilian. I ken the truth. You’re the greatest Soldier that’s ever lived! How could I say that about you?”

Jane’s resolved flickered “But…but I _heard_ you, I-”

“They _lied_ , Jane. Just like they lied about everythin’. It was a fake or a forgery of somethin’…but it wasn’t me.”

Doubt seeped into Jane’s expression. Something was trying push through, weighed down by five years of constant anger

He swallowed. “If…if it had been anyone else, I would have just been mad, maybe bash their head in a little. But it was _you_ , and I _trusted_ you, and I didn’t think you would ever-” He cut himself off.

“I dinnae.” Tavish was closing the space between them, looking like he wanted nothing more than to wrap Jane in his arms and make the pain evaporate. “Please Jane. Please believe me.”

For the fist time since Tavish had turned to leave, Jane took his eyes off him.

“I do not know if I can,” Jane replied quietly.

They were less than a foot away now. As Demo tensed with anticipation, he watched Tavish place a hand against Jane’s turned cheek.

Jane froze, shaking at the touch after so many years apart. He reached up, putting his own hand over Tavish’s. “I want to,” he whispered.

Tavish tucked his head over Jane’s, pulling the other man’s forehead to his chest. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said into Jane’s helmet. “Every day since the WAR has been hell. Know you hated me, knowing what we did to each other…. Please Jane…”

Jane sniffed silently into the rough armor.

Tavish was right about it being hell. Even through all the hurt and betrayal it had still been hell to kill him. And not just to kill, but to maim and mutilate over and over and over again and then to be killed in return. To kill someone you love because they deserve it, but deep in your heart you still can’t bring yourself to feel right. And then in the years that followed, the terrible agonizing loneliness that can’t be swept away with booze or pull-ups or one night stands in desolate bars. There was no replacement for what they once had.

There was no moving on. But maybe there could be forgiveness.

“I believe you.”

It only took a few seconds to readjust themselves into a crippling hug. Tears of relief streamed down the right side of Tavish’s face; Jane’s was pressed into his shoulder, obscured entirely from view. As painful as saying goodbye is, there is nothing like saying hello. The reunited couple was alone in the universe.

Figuratively speaking, of course. Over in the shed, Demoman and Soldier gave each other a silent high-five.


	10. Epilogue

Honestly, Demo didn’t think Smismass sweaters came this ugly.

He looked around the blue monstrosity to Soldier’s beaming face, trying to find the appropriate wording.

“It’s beautiful, Major. I love it.”

Soldier pulled him into a delighted hug, the wearable eyesore squished between them. As he pulled it on, he took the time to admire the castle’s living room, dolled up in as many cheap Smismass decorations he could find. In the month since Thanksgiving, he had moved a most of his stuff into Soldier’s place, but he didn’t have his own decorations to take with. When they realized neither of them had the appropriate trappings, they had rushed out on Smismass Eve to the nearest shop and got whatever was left. The result was beautiful, the whole room nicely accented by the roaring fireplace.

Finally managing to get the tight neckline around his head, he was greeted with the sight of Soldier in a matching red sweater with the words “Santa’s Favorite Ho” written on the front.

“Uh, Major…”

“Yeah?” Soldier said as he got off the couch and crawled under the tree.

“You know what? Never mind.”

Soldier returned a moment later with another present.

“This one’s to both of us.”

It was distinctly bottle shaped, wrapped in purple paper and a postcard neatly taped to the side.

“Jane and Tav spendin’ Smismass in Vegas?” Demo asked as he turned the card over.

“Yeah. This came in the mail a few days ago.”

“And what did we send them?”

“ _I_ sent them a portable space heater. Apparently they like camping,” Solider said with disdain.

“Lunatics,” Demo agreed. He felt Soldier’s head on his shoulder, and he began to read. “ _’Dear Graham and Mary_ ,’ at least he spelled my name right this time the bastard. ‘ _Vegas is great. Weather is nice. Blah blah blah postcard bollocks_ ,’ that’s nae me, he actually wrote that. ‘ _Just wanted to let you know we’re thinking of you. We owe you so much. Have a merry Smismass you meddling assholes. Love, J &T_. Aw that’s cute, they wrote just their initials. Why dunnae we ever do cute shite like that?”

“We are literally wearing matching Smismass sweaters.”

Demo considered for a moment. “Ah, you got me there.”

Soldier handed him the package and together they eagerly tore off the wrapping paper.

“A Glelivet 1940?” Demo marveled as they removed the bottle. “That DeGroot knows his scotch!”

Soldier eyed it skeptically. “I assume that’s good?”

“You bet your arse it’s good! Hang on, let me go get some glasses.”

Taking the bottle with him, Demo strode into the kitchen. As he poured, he marveled at much things had changed in a month.

* * *

After the Great Reconciliation as it came to be known by no one except Demo, the two BLUs returned to the base very different than when they left. Jane had joined the team for a hand of cards after dinner, an even that caused everyone besides the Engineer to freeze over. Engie was apparently very good at hiding his surprise; he merely leaned over, picked Scout’s jaw off the ground, and dealt Jane in. Similar happenings occurred throughout the week, with Jane joining the team for TV, conversation, and overall attempting to act like a normal person.

For the most part, he avoided Demo.

The Demoman figured he was still pretty pissed, what with the whole jumping him, holding him hostage, and stealing his rocket launcher, so he decided to stay away from the other mercenary as well. The change in his teammate was incredible; he didn’t want to throw it out the window by starting another fight.

However, all that changed when Jane nervously approached him after a particularly long day.

“Demoman. I want to talk.”

His voice said command and irritation, but his body language said anything but. He shifted nervously back and forth, not making eye contact with his co-worker. A splotch of red had landed on his blue uniform, but other than being exhausted, he was unscathed. Demo couldn’t remember the last time Jane had actually called him by his name.

Letting the last of BLU shuffle by them into the base, Demo replied “Alright. I’m listenin’.”

Hesitating a moment longer, Jane pushed on. “I have not spoken with you this past week.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I have not spoken with you much at all the past few years.”

Demo raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going.

“And for the past few years I have not been…agreeable to you.”

Holy shit. Was Jane…trying to _apologize_?

“In fact,” he continued, “I have made many attempts to make your life hell. I blamed you for something that was not your fault, something that wasn’t even _his_ fault. And I…was an ass.”

He shot Demo a look but could only hold it for a few seconds before staring at his feet again.

“You can say that again,” Demo noted.

It only took a moment for Jane to snap back into his old self. “I was compromised! I was betrayed! Damn right I was pissed you shit-eating-” He caught himself. “I…sorry. Force of habit.”

Looking his teammate up and down, Demo considered his response. Ultimately, he reminded himself that he didn’t blow up the east corner of the Luxor Hotel on a diamond job just to be a push over.

“Uh-huh.”

Jane looked dejected. “It’ll take time. I’m not just going to be able to change everything between us overnight. I just…wanted to apologize. And maybe…start things over.”

“I cannae do that,” Demo said, and any hope Jane had deflated. “I cannae just go around pretending that you dinnae treat me like shite for the past five years. Even if I wanted tae, I couldnae forget that.”

Maybe that’s what Jane had been expecting to hear. He nodded, readying to leave, to take his crushed pride back to his room and know he would have to live with himself and who he’s become.

“But,” Demo said, “I nae be able to forget, but I might be willin’ tae forgive.”

Jane perked his head, not entirely sure what Demo meant, but knowing that hope was not all lost.

“I know why you did it, and I’m willin’ tae take those midigatin’ circumstances into account. But like you said, it’ll take time. I dunnae want tae start over, but I do want tae try tae work this out. We’re teammates after all. Maybe nae friends, but teammates.”

The Demoman extended a hand to Jane.

Jane gave a smile, an expression he hadn’t worn in years. Firmly, he grasped Demo’s hand and shook.

If he had reservations before, Jane abandoned them after that conversation. He threw himself entirely into his newfound disposition, reminding BLU of who he’d been before the WAR. Demoman was the only one who know why, and it drove the rest of the team crazy.

After two weeks, Heavy pulled Demo aside. “You have something to do with this?” He indicated to Jane, plopped on the couch and laughing a bit too loudly at one of Scout’s jokes.

Demo smirked. “Me? Nah.”

Heavy gave him a disbelieving look. “Two weeks ago, you come back together. Then, Soldier start laughing more, be with team. Is almost like his is now…part of family. How do you do this?”

Demo considered the giant carefully. “I’d like tae tell you big guy, I really would. But it’s somethin’ personal tae Soldier, and I’m not goin’ tae talk about it until _he’s_ ready tae talk about it.”

“If you love him, is okay. You can tell Heavy.”

A faint smile crossed Demo’s lips. “Close, but no cigar. Like I said, I’ll talk tae you about it one day. Just enjoy the fact that he’s back, and the team’s together again.”

Heavy accepted he would get no more explanation from his co-worker. He patted Demo on the shoulder, and the two of them returned to living room.

* * *

“What do you think?”

“Well…it certainly is alcohol.”

“Ahg, you sound like Sniper.” Demo tilted his head back, downing his scotch in one shot. “At least one of us is going to appreciate this little beauty.”

Putting his glass on the coffee table, the RED Soldier snuggled up beside the Demoman. As he stared at the postcard on the table, he said, “you know, we do good work.”

“Aye. We should see what other matches we can come up with.”

“The Administrator and Saxton Hale, that’d be something,” Soldier mused.

“Or Scout and Miss Pauling. That lad has it bad for her.”

Soldier shook his head. “No, wouldn’t work. Pauling’s a homosexual.”

“What?” Demo said in disbelief. “How do you ken?”

Soldier smirked and tapped his forehead. Demo rolled his eye. They passed another few minutes in silence, Demo stealing Soldier’s abandoned scotch out of mercy for good alcohol. After two glasses, he didn’t even feel a buzz yet. What he did feel was Soldier’s hand resting on his thigh, gripping it ever so slightly.

“I have another present for you,” Soldier whispered against his shoulder.

“Oh? And is this a present I’m goin’ tae have tae open upstairs?”

“Negatory!” Soldier smiled at the Demoman’s confusion. He got on Demo’s lap and whispered right into his ear, “it’s one I’m going to give to you right here.”

Demo felt his cheeks go warm.

Soldier smiled. “You’re blushing.”

“Oh shove it!”

It was the last thing he said before Soldier kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it’s done! I know I didn’t tie up some loose ends, but I guess that’s me keeping my options open for a spin off lol  
> thank you everyone who ready a long the way! you really gave me the inspiration to keep going and I couldn’t have done it without you


End file.
